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THE WINTER'S TALE 



"THE ARDEN SHAKESPEARE 

General Editor, C. H. Herford, Litt.D., University of Manchester 



THE 
WINTER'S TALE 



EDITED BY 

H. B. CHARLTON, M.A. 

LECTURER IN ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE VICTORIA UNIVERSITY 
OF MANCHESTER 



D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 



THE ARDEN SHAKESPEARE 

A MIDSUMMEK NIGHT'S BREAM. 



Edited by Edmund K. Chambers, B.A., Oxford. f kr O 5? '^ Q 
U LIKE IT. I^0^60^ 



AS YOU LIKE IT. 

Edited by J. C. Smith, M.A., Edinburgh. 
CORIOLANUS. 

Edited by Edmund K. Chambers, B.A., Oxford, 
CYMBELINE. 

Edited by A. J. "Wyatt, M.A., Cambridge. 
HAMLET. 

Edited by Edmund EL Chambers, B.A., Oxford. 
HENRY IV — FIRST PART. 

Edited by F. W. Moorman, B.A., Yorkshire College. ) 
HENRY V. 

Edited by G. C. Moore Smith, M.A., Cambridge. 
HENRY VIII. 

Edited by D. Nichol Smith, M. A., Edinburgh. 
JULIUS C^SAR. 

Edited by Arthur D. Innes, M.A., Oxford. 
KING JOHN. 

Edited by G. C. Moore Smith, M.A., Cambridge. 
KING LEAR. 

Edited by D. Nichol Smith, M.A., Edinburgh. 
MACBETH. 

Edited by Edmund K. Chambers, B.A., Oxford. , 
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 

Edited by J. C. Smith, M.A., Edinburgh. 
RICHARD II. 

Edited by C. H. Herford, Litt.D., Cambridge. 
RICHARD IIL 

Edited by George Macdonald, M.A., Oxford, 
ROMEO AND JULIET. 

Edited by Robert A. Law, Ph.D., Harvard. 
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 

Edited by H. L. Withers, B.A., Oxford. 
THE TEMPEST. 

Edited by F. S. Boas, M.A., Oxford. 
THE WINTER'S TALE. 

Edited by H. B. Charlton, M.A., Manchester. 

TWELFTH NIGHT. 

Edited by Arthur D. "Inncs, M.A., Oxford. 

The remaining volumes are in preparation. 



Copyright, 1915, by D. C. Heath & Co. 



''-^ /o,>.^^ 



JAN 29 1915 ^^'>^ 



)ci.A;j9i7oy 



GENERAL PREFACE 

In this edition of Shakespeare an attempt is made 
to present the greater plays of the dramatist in their 
literary aspect, and not merely as material for the study 
of philology or grammar. Criticism purely verbal and 
textual has only been included to such an extent as 
may serve to help the student in the appreciation of 
the essential poetry. Questions of date and literary 
history have been fully dealt with in the Introductions, 
but the larger space has been devoted to the interpre- 
tative rather than the matter-of-fact order of scholar- 
ship. Esthetic judgments are never final, but the 
Editors have attempted to suggest points of view from 
which the analysis of dramatic motive and dramatic 
character may be profitably undertaken. In the Notes 
likewise, while it is hoped that all unfamiliar expressions 
and allusions have been adequately explained, yet it 
has been thought even more important to consider the 
dramatic value of each scene, and the part which it 
plays in relation to the whole. These general princi- 
ples are common to the whole series; in detail each 
Editor is alone responsible for the play or plays that 
have been intrusted to him. 

Every volume of the series has been provided with a 
Glossary, an Essay upon Metre, and an Index ; and 
Appendices have been added upon points of special 
interest which could not conveniently be treated in tlie 
Introduction or the Notes. The text is based by the 
several Editors on that of the Globe edition. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Introduction v 

Dramatis Person.e xxiv 

The Winter's Tale 1 

Notes 116 

Appendix A — Early Version of the Story . . . 169 

Appendix B — Metre 170 

Glossary 179 

Index of Words 189 

General Index 191 



INTRODUCTION 



1. DATE AND LITERARY HISTORY OF THE PLAY 

Many of Shakespeare's plays were published during his life-time, 
either from his own MSS. (as in all probability the 1599 edition of 
Romeo and Juliet), or surreptitiously from pirated copies such as 
might have been bought or stolen from an actor in the play, or 
written in shorthand by some spectator in the pay of a publisher 
(as, for instance, the 1603 edition of Hamlet), These publications 
of separate plays are called Quartos (because the size of their pages 
is one-fourth of that of a full-sized or Folio sheet). 

But not all of Shakespeare's plays were thus published : and so 
in 1623, seven years after his death, two of his fellow-actors and 
fellow-shareholders in the Globe Theatre, John Heminge and Henry 
Condell, collected his plays and published them in one volume. 
This volume is known as the Folio of 1623, or the First Folio, and 
its editors, if not always having access to Shakespeare's own MSS., 
generally have some valuable authority for their version : moreover, 
their volume included seventeen plays of which we have no previous 
quarto edition.^ 

Of these The Winter^ s Tale is one. We have no Quarto edition, 
and no evidence that one was printed. It appeared first in the 
Folio of 1623, where it was printed immediately after the Twelfth 
Night, thus closing one of the three classes into which the editors di- 
vided their collection, — viz,, the Comedies. The printers in this 
instance did their work well — and, except occasionally, their text 
can be taken as authoritative : it is the one we have adopted here 
with few variations. 

The date ^ of The Winter* s Tale can be determined fairly accu- 
rately, from both external and internal evidence. ^ 

* This First Folio (F 1) was reprinted, with textual alterations in places, in 1632 
(F2): of the Third Folio (F3) we have two versions, one issued in 16G3 and one in 
1664 — the latter containing seven additional plays, of which only Pericles and 
Locrine, are now even in part accepted as Shakespeare's by any authoritative critic. 
The Fourth Folio (F 4) appeared in 1685. 

2 These particulars are based on Furness's edition of The Winter's Tale. 

' See Dowdcn's Shakespeare Primer, pp. S3, etc. 



vi INTRODUCTION 

(1) In a MS. diary, bearing the title ** Plaies and Notes thereof" 
(No. 208 Ashmolean Museum, Oxford), first noted by CoHier in 
1836, one Dr. Simon Forman, an astrologer and quack physician, 
records visits to several plays, including Macbeth: one of his entries 
concerns the acting of *' the Winters Talle at the glob 1611 the 
15 of Maye." His summary of the plot^ makes it certain that 
Shakespeare's Winter s Tale is the play in question. Hence The 
Whiter s Tale was written before the middle of 1611. 

(2) The OJ/ice Book of Sir Henry Herbert, Master of the Revels 
to James the First, has the following entry : " For the kings play- 
ers. An olde playe called Winters Tale, formerly allowed of by Sir 
George Bucke and likewyse by mee on M^ Hemminges his worde 
that there was nothing prophane added or reformed, though the 
allowed booke was missinge : and I therefore returned it without 
a fee this 19 of August, 1623." The Sir George Bucke referred to 
was Herbert's predecessor as Master of the Revels (i. e. Licenser 
of Plays) : he secured a reversionary grant of his office in 1603, be- 
coming formally Master of the Revels in October, 1610. Presum- 
ably then he could not "allow of" (i. e. license) a play till after 
October, 1610 : and so he could not have licensed The Winter's Tale 
till after October, 1610. Presumably also a play would be sub- 
mitted to the Master of the Revels as soon as it was ready for the 
stage. We should conclude from this that Shakespeare finished 
his Winter's Tale not earlier than a month or two before 'Bucke as- 
sumed office : in short, some time between September, 1610, and 
May, 1611 (on which date Forman saw it acted). 

But, unfortunately, though this conclusion is probably true, the 
validity of this particular argument is vitiated by the fact that the 
Stationers' Registers (i. e. the records of the output of publishers 
comprising the company or guild to which Mary gave their charter 
of incorporation in 1557) make it clear that Bucke was empowered 
with authority to license plays as early as 1607 : hence the knowl- 
edge that he licensed The Winter's Tale could only be accepted as 
certain evidence that The Winter's Tale was finished no earlier than 
just before 1607 or no earlier than just before the earliest date 
on which he became in effect, if not in full formality. Master 
of the Ptevels. Fortunately we are not dependent on Herbert's 
evidence. 2 

* See Appendix I. 

2 In ISt^i Peter Cunningham published Extracts from the Account of the Revels at 
Court, a record of plays performed at C'ourt during the reigua of Elizabeth and 
Jarac/?, and amongst them under the date of November 5, 1611 — is "A play called 
ye winters nightcs Tayle." This addilioaal piece of evidence that the play was per- 



INTRODUCTION vii 

(3) Professor Thorndike ^ has recently suggested another piece 
of evidence. In Ben Jonson's Masque of Oheron (the date of which 
we know exactly, January 1, 1611), there is a dance of ten (or 
twelve) satyrs, who, with bells on their shaggy thighs, leap and fall 
suddenly into an antic dance full of gesture and swift motion. This 
was a new thing on the stage and is not found in any court masque 
before, or after, 1611. But there is a similar dance of twelve satyrs 
in The Winter's Tale.^ Therefore either Jonson borrowed it from 
Shakespeare, or Shakespeare from Jonson. The latter, argues Pro- 
fessor Thorndike, is more probable, because the popular audience 
Shakespeare wrote for would be anxious to see what delighted the 
courtly audience Jonson wrote for: moreover in court perform- 
ances the professional actors who acted in the theatres for which 
Shakespeare wrote, took the part of the dancing satyrs, and Shake- 
speare expressly alludes to three of his dancers as having danced 
before the king ; ^ further, a dance in another masque is copied in 
The Two Noble Kinsmen ; and, finally, the dance is an integral part 
of the Masque of Oheron^ whilst it is purely an addition in The Win- 
ter's Tale, So Professor Thorndike fixes the date of the play be- 
tween January 1 and May 15, 1611.* 

Internal evidence of the tone of the play, its structure, its style, 
diction and verse, confirms the external evidence of the date of 
The Winter s Tale and its consequent position in the chronology of 
Shakespeare's plays. It marks the time when Shakespeare had 
arisen from the depths of tragic gloom and could look on life se- 
renely and with infinite pleasure and pity : when he saw deep 
wrongs righted and human nature justified in the majestic forti- 
tude of its sufferers and the native goodness of its children : when 
repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation were his theme and his 
faith. Further, it shows Shakespeare careless of the formalities 
of structure : the play 's the thing ; unities of Time and Place are 
vigorously cast aside ; extravagant improbabilities in incident and 
character are given conviction by the sweep of a master hand ; and 

formed in 1611 is also rejected now. It has been proved that the MSS. which Cun- 
ningham used are forged — though the facts they record are not necessarily false. 

1 See Professor Thorndike's The Influence of Beaumont and Fletcher upon Shake- 
speare. 

2 See Winter's Tale^ iv. 4. 331-352. 
» iv. 4. 345, 346. 

* Ben Jonson, in the Introduction to Bartholemew Fair (1614), says, "he is loth 
to make nature afraid in his plays, like those that beget tales, tempests, and such 
like drolleries, to mix his head with other men's heals," and some editors declare that 
he is alluding contemptuously to The [Vinier'a Tale and The Tempest. It may be so. 
But we are not dcpcMdent on Jonson 's evidence for our conclusion that The Winter's 
Tale was written before 1014. 



viii INTRODUCTION 

historical and geographical fact is lightly dismissed from the realm 
of importance and Romance. And these are signs of Shakespeare's 
latest dramas. 

The style, and the diction, too, are those of Shakespeare's fullest 
growth. His language is highly metaphorical, teeming with image 
on image almost to the point of confusion : the thoughts are too 
great and too profuse to be packed into the limits of regular 
speech : the mind and the imagination move more rapidly than the 
tongue. And so we have a rapid elliptical expression charged with 
ideas and images, in Keats' phrase, every rift loaded with ore. 

And, finally, the verse i also furnishes evidence of the maturity of 
its maker. There is no rhyme (except in the speech of Time as 
Chorus) : there is a greater number of light and weak endings, and 
of double-endings : and the unit is not the line but a splendidly 
rhythmical paragraph. Altogether we may be almost sure that 
The Winter's Tale was written in the early part of 1611. 



2. SOURCE OF THE PLOT 

The immediate source of the plot of The Winter^s Tale is Pan- 
dosto, a prose romance written by Robert Greene, — a typical 
Elizabethan man of letters, vagabond, pamphleteer, novelist and 
dramatist at once, — and published by him in 1588 with the title : 
PandostOy The Triumph of Time.^ The romance was very popular 
and was subsequently reprinted in 1607 with the title Dorastus and 
Fawnia, 

The plot of Pandosto ^ is as follows : Pandosto, King of Bohemia, 
a man of *' bountiful courtesy towards his friends," had to wife 
Bellaria, a lady of royal birth, of great beauty, fortune, and virtue. 
She bore him a son, Garinter, whose ''perfection greatly augmented 
the love of the parents and the joys of their commons." They are 
visited by Egistus, King of Sicily, *' who in his youth had been 
brought up with Pandosto," and who is welcomed with loving em- 
bracings and protestations by Pandosto and his wife ; for she is de- 
sired by her husband to welcome his old friend and '* (to show how 
she liked him whom her husband loved)." She does so with much 

1 See Appendix B. 

' Reprinted (in part) as an Appendix to Motley's edition of The Winter's Tale 
in Cassell's National Library: and in full by P. G. Thomas in the Shakespeare 
Library (1907). 

3 The plot is given in detail here — because the romance is rather too long to be 
printed as an Appendix to this volume. 



INTRODUCTION ix 

familiar courtesy, even "oftentimes coming herself into his bed- 
chamber, to see that nothing should [be amiss to mislike him," or 
'* walking with him into the garden, where they two in private and 
pleasant devices would pass away the time to both their contents." 
In time Pandosto becomes jealous, thinking that " his wife was a 
woman and therefore subject unto love" : and so *' tormented by a 
flaming jealousy into such a frantic passion," he plots with his cup- 
bearer Franion, bribing him to poison Egistus, and hoping "as 
soon as Egistus was dead to give his wife a sop of the same sauce." 
But Franion discloses the plot to Egistus, and after waiting six 
days till Fortune sent a good gale of wind, they both escaped to 
Bohemia. At once Pandosto orders the imprisonment of Bellaria, 
and the unwilling guard, coming upon her playing with Garinter, 
is forced by fear of the king's anger, to carry her off to prison, 
*' where with sighs and tears she passes away the time till she 
might come to her trial. " This act and the proclamation of his 
wife as an adulteress, together with the lapse of some months' time, 
half heals Pandosto's sore. But Bellaria, crossed as she is in ca- 
lamities, has soon greater griefs to make her tears more bitter : 
she '* wrings her hands," " gasps, sighs," " gushes forth streams 
of tears," and " utters bitter complaints" — for she is about to 
bear a child. So a" fair and beautiful daughter," Fawnia, is born. 
But Pandosto is galled afresh when he hears of this, and declares 
that the bastard shall be burnt at the stake with its mother : ** yet 
at last, seeing his noblemen were importunate upon him, he was 
content to spare the child's life : " he decides to commit it to For- 
tune by placing it in a little boat and trusting it "to the mercies 
of the seas and the destinies : " upon which Bellaria swooned, cried, 
and " screeched out " her lamentations. 

But Pandosto was " not yet glutted with sufficient revenge." 
He brought Bellaria to trial into open court : but the jury refused 
to convict on the ground that Bellaria's appeal to be confronted 
by her accusers was just. Pandosto swore he would make them re- 
pent, and so, " fearing more perpetual infamy than momentary 
death," Bellaria requests that an appeal shall be made to the 
Oracle of Apollo. Pandosto " could not for shame deny it," and 
agreed. The answer of the oracle was as follows : " Suspicion is no 
proof: Jealousy is an unequal judge; Bellaria is chaste; Egistus 
blameless ; Franion a true subject ; Pandosto treacherous ; His 
babe an innocent, and the King shall hve without an heir if that 
which is lost be not found. " Pandosto is at once repentant and 
seeks reconciliation : but at this moment news of Garinter's death 



X INTRODUCTION 

is brought in — and the shock of it kills Bellaria. In despair Pan- 
dosto attempts suicide, and, not content with reviling himself, he 
has engraved on Bellaria's tomb an epitaph invoking perpetual 
curses on *' him that caused his Queen to die." 

Leaving Pandosto in his ** dolorous passions," the tale now turns 
to the " tragical discourse of the young infant," Fawnia. Purely 
by Fortune, " who is minded thus to wanton," Fawnia has been 
carried to the coast of Sicilia where she is found by a poor shepherd, 
Porrus, who was wandering on the beach to see if a lost sheep was 
perchance " browzing on the sea-ivy " and who thus heard a child's 
crying from a boat on the shore. So Fawnia becomes one of the 
household of Porrus and his wife Mopsa, who are incited to keep 
her by the jewels and gold which were found in her mantle. Be- 
lieving Porrus and Mopsa to be her parents, she grew up "to 
exquisite perfection both of body and mind " as their dutiful 
daughter, seeming " to be the goddess Flora herself for beauty." 
One day at a meeting of all the farmers' daughters of Sicilia, 
whither " she was bidden as mistress of the feast," Fawnia was 
seen by Dorastus, the son of Egistus, returning with his compan- 
ions from a hawking expedition. Dorastus, who is being forced 
into a political marriage by his father, fell in love with her, and 
she returned his love : their passions are described in the stilted 
high-falutin' euphuistic language of which the romances are so 
full. In order to see Fawnia more frequently and to urge her to 
an explicit declaration of her love, Dorastus disguises himself as a 
shepherd. Having plighted their troth and recognising that they 
could never marry in Sicilia owing to the position of Egistus, they 
devised a plan for flight to Italy. With the help of an old servant 
of Dorastus', Capnio, they procured a vessel and got aboard, 
having to wait there, however, for Capnio before setting sail. But 
in the meantime Porrus, alarmed at the repeated visits of Dorastus, 
whose identity "was more than suspected," decided to carry the 
chain and jewels he had found with Fawnia to the king and dis- 
close to him the story of his finding her. On his way to court, he 
is met by Capnio, who to prevent his purpose, forcibly carries him 
aboard, without, however, seeing the jewels which Porrus was tak- 
ing to the king. So Dorastus, Fawnia, Porrus and Capnio set sail : 
and on the fourth day, after a fearful tempest which drove them 
out of their course altogether, they found themselves near '* the 
coast of Bohemia." They landed, and Pandosto, hearing of the 
beauty of Fawnia, caused them to be arrested as spies, in order 
that he might bring her before him. On the excuse that Dorastus 



INTRODUCTION xi 

had probably stolen Fawnia from her father, the king imprisoned 
him, refusing to believe his tale that he was Meleagrus, a Knight 
of Trapolonia, whither he was returning from Padua where he had 
been for his bride. Dorastus in prison, Pandosto tried to gain the 
love of Fawnia, threatening her v/ith torture should she refuse to 
submit to his will. 

In time, news came to Egistus that his son was imprisoned in 
Bohemia ; he sent an embassy to ask for his release, as well as for 
the execution of Fawnia and Porrus. To reconcile himself with 
the man he had wronged, Pandosto agreed to comply with the 
request. But the fear of death prompted Porrus to disclose all he 
knew and to shew the jewels he had found with Fawnia. Of 
course she is recognised at once : and so all goes well. Dorastus 
and Fawnia are married, and Porrus is made a knight — but 
Pandosto, ** calling to mind how first he betrayed his friend Egistus, 
how his jealousy was the cause of Bellaria's death, that he contrary 
to the law of nature had lusted after his own daughter, moved with 
these desperate thoughts, he fell into a melancholy fit, and to close 
up the comedy with a tragical stratagem, he slew himself." 

Such is the Romance of Pandosto, We must now ask ourselves : 

(1) Where did Greene get its plot and its machinery? 

(2) What did it give to The Winter's Tale ? 

(3) How does Shakespeare modify it in his drama? 

The romances which bulk so large in Elizabethan prose fiction 
are the representatives in English of the Greek Romance : to this 
they owe their spirit, their content and their technique.^ The 
three chief instances of types of the Greek Romance are Theagenes 
and Chariclea^^ Daphnis and Chloe,^ and Clitophon and Lencippe.^ 
With the Revival of Learning, these romances became known in 
literary Europe, and were edited and translated into Latin, French, 
and EngUsh. Thus in 1569 Underdo wne translated Theagenes and 
Chariclea into EngHsh ; in 1587, Day did into English Daphnis and 
Chloe from a French version by Amyot; and in 1568, Comingeois 
translated Clitophon and Leucippe into French. Thus these works 
were easily accessible to English writers seeking models for their 
tales. And Greene's Pandosto^ is a sufficient witness of the as- 

1 See S. E. Wolff. The Greek Romances in Elizabethan Prose Fiction. Columbia 
University Press (1912). 

2 Also called The Mihiopica, written by Hcliodorus before 400 a.d. 
» By Longus, written between 100 and 400 a.d, 

4 By Achilles Tatius, written between 300 and 500 a.d. 

" J. Caro (Enplische Studien (1878)) thinks that the story of Pandosto is bused 
OD an actual incident in the history of Poland in the fourteenth century. A certain 



xiv INTRODUCTION 

effect, are substituted where possible for Greene's reliance on 
coincidence and chance. Thus Perdita is not cast by chance in 
Sicilia : she is dehberately taken there by a character Shakespeare 
creates for the purpose, Antigonus, who beheves he is taking 
the child to the land of its father ; i but that deed done, there was 
no further use for Antigonus, so he is given over to the bear ; and 
even the bear is not there by accident — it has been disturbed by 
the huntsmen : 2 still further, the clamour of the hunt has fright- 
ened two of the shepherd's flock to the beach and so brought the 
shepherd to look for them — and to find Perdita.^ 

Caraillo, too, is Shakespeare's creation : or rather his amalgama- 
tion of Tranion and Capnio. In his turn, he takes the arrival of 
Florizel and Perdita in Sicilia out of the hands of Fortune, by 
whom it is contrived in Greene's novel, and makes it a deliberate 
plan.* His part, too, enables him to arrange for a final scene 
of general reconciUation in Bohemia, by disclosing the flight to 
Polixenes and inciting him to follow the runaways.^ 

(3) Lastly, Shakespeare was a dramatist, not a novelist. Many 
of his alterations are demanded by theatrical considerations. Thus 
he makes Leontes ^ actually confront Hermione as she is play- 
zing with Mamillius — a much more effective scene for the stage 
than Greene's incident of the sending of the guard to arrest the 
queen. Further,^ Shakespeare lets PoHxenes spy on Florizel — so 
giving us the beautiful scene where Perdita distributes the flow- 
ers to her guests, and at the same time, adding powerfully to the 
motive for Florizel's flight ; for in Greene, Florizel only anticipates 
objection on the part of his father. And, lastly, Shakespeare's 
final scene, with its double chmax, and the surprising incident of 
the statue is a fitting spectacle in which to close the play : and in 
Greene, of course, there is no suggestion of it. 

But the alterations Shakespeare effected, whilst still retaining 
the romantic and idyllic spirit of Pandosto, are too numerous to 
mention in detail. It is sufficient to recognise that their purpose 
is to enhance the dramatic qualities of the play, to give cohesion 
and reality to its characters, and to suggest a bond of causal se- 
quence to its most improbable incidents. 

1 See iii. 8. 15-46. 

2 This incident of the hunt is not in Pandosto: it occurs however in similar cir- 
cumstances, in a book from which Greene was borrowing largely, for the novel — 
Day's translation of Longus' Daphnis and Chloe: so Mr. Wolff concludes that Shake- 
speare used Day as a source. 

» See iii. S. 65-67. * See iv. 4. 651, etc. ^ gee iv. 4. 675, etc. 

• See ii. 1. ' See iv. 4. 



INTRODUCTION xv 



3. CRITICAL APPRECIATION 

The last years of Shakespeare's dramatic activity (1608-1611) 
brought forth three plays — [Cymbeline, The Tempest^ and The 
Winter's Tale — which are usually grouped together under the 
term Romances : for they have in common many qualities of plot, 
of tone, and of style, and these qualities are not only best described 
as those of Romance, but by such description are distinguished 
from analogous qualities in the earher comedies of Shakespeare. 

These three plays reveal the workings of the master hand and 
the master mind. In their spirit, they mark the attainment of a 
serene outlook on life and a trust in its ultimate goodness ; and in 
their art, of a consummate sense of creative power and a defiant 
carelessness of technical orthodoxy. Their themes are those of 
bitter wrongs followed by repentance, reconciliation and forgive- 
ness : their stories jostle tragedy with idyll, but their ending is 
happy : their plots are made up of a medley of improbable inci- 
dents, culled, may be, from different and incongruous sources : 
their incidents are varied, striking, and theatrical, and this scenic 
appeal is increased by a prodigal addition of spectacular elements 
purely for stage effect : their scenes are a reflection of the legend- 
ary or authentic history and geography of this earth, adapted and 
transmuted to a world of their own: *'the emotions described 
range from the wild jealousy of Leontes to the pretty sentimental 
love-making of Florizel":! and all these elements are brought 
together in the spirit of romance to give atmosphere and form to 
the latest creatures of Shakespeare's imagination. 

The Winter's Tale illustrates all these romantic qualities, in 
theme, story, plot, incident, and scene. It is a story both of jeal- 
ousy involving death and of idyllic love. Its plot tells of conspira- 
cies, the casting off of an infant, the intervention of an oracle, and 
the miraculous reconciliation of husband and wife, children and 
parents, friend and friend. Its incidents are exciting and surpris- 
ing in their improbability ; there are secret flights, secret love- 
makings, a worrying by a bear, and a statue which (in semblance) 
steps into breathing life; and the final climax is a consummate 
example of the management of a surpnsmg finale. There is also a 
great display of scenic effect not inherently connected with the 
drama : dances, a sheep-shearing festival with song and music, 
and a distribution of garlands, as well as a gratuitous display of 

1 Thorndike, p. 134. 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

cozenage and the picking of pockets. Finally, The Winter's Tale 
has its setting in a world where Bohemia has a sea coast, Delphi 
an oracle, and where Whitsun pastorals, Julio Romano, and the 
oracle are all contemporary. In short, the play is of the very 
essence of Romance. 

And as a romance it is to be judged. Its structure is that of the 
novel or prose romance rather than that of the drama. Its time 
extends over sixteen years : its place alternates capriciously be- 
tween Sicilia and Bohemia. And besides thus defying the Unities 
of Place and Time,i jt has no real unity of action. There are really 
two plots, — that of Leontes and Hermione, and that of Florizel 
and Perdita. In Greene's Pandosto there is no attempt to join the 
plots artistically : the attempt, however, is hardly necessary be- 
cause he does not regard the Pandosto-Bellaria incidents as a story 
in themselves so much as a prelude to the Dorastus-Fawnia story. 

But Shakespeare makes the Leontes-Hermione plot the chief in- 
terest, and so he tries to weld the two stories together. He creates 
Camillo for this purpose, and moreover he subordinates the recog- 
nition of Perdita in the last act to the coming to life of Hermione. 
, Yet the artistic success of his devices is but partial. There is 
something loose injthe structure of The Winter's Tale. But for 
the nonce, we are reconciled to the looseness, indeed, thankful for 
• it, since it gives scope for variety of romantic charm and incident, 
and presents a world in which such different people as Leontes, 
Gamillo, Mamillius, Perdita, Florizel, the Clown, and Autolycus 
can breathe and reveal their being. 

Greene makes little attempt at characterization in his Pandosto, 
He gives descriptions, acts, thoughts, and passions, and appends * 
them to a name. Shakespeare's problem is in the main to take ^ 
these thoughts, actions, and passions, as far as possible, and fit 
them to the nature of the person to whom they belong : he has to 
humanize Greene's figures. 

With Leontes his difficulties were great. In the novel, Pandosto 
at the outset is ** greatly feared and loved of all men," " his mind 
is fraught with princely liberality " : but afterwards he is a coarse 

1 These unities were first formulated by Castelvetro in 1576, as follows: "The 
time of the representation and that of the action represented must be exactly co- 
incident": "the scene of the action must be constant, being restricted to one place 
alone." From 1576 onwards they became part of the creed of dramatic criticism, 
especially in France. But the French critics had perforce to modify their stringency: 
and by the time of Corneille the Unity of Time was a demand that the action rep- 
resented should not occupy longer than twenty-four, or at most thirty hours; 
the Unity of Place, that the scone should not shift within the limits of each Act. 
It is interesting to note that in TJie Tempest Shakespeare embodies the two Unities. 



INTRODUCTION xvii 

brute, given over to tyranny, cruelty, and lust ; he seeks to mur- 
der his wife, he takes the law into his own hands and attempts to 
force the jury into convicting her ; he only appeals to the oracle at 
her entreaty, and then because he is afraid of refusing ; and finally 
he attempts to seduce Fawnia. Shakespeare has this monster to 
humanize. And the difficulty is increased by another considera- 
tion. In Greene, Pandosto has some pretext for his suspicion in 
the freedom and intimacy of his wife with their guest, and in her 
witlessness in not perceiving her husband's dislike of it. Shake- 
speare cannot make his Hermione like that. And so he removes 
from the plot all suggestion of more than innocent familiarity. In 
their place he invents the incident of Polixenes' proposed depart- 
ure, and so prepares for the incident ^ which alone serves to make 
Leontes suspicious, and which at the same time is in perfect har- 
mony with the character of his Hermione. But if this alteration 
saves Hermione, it makes Leontes' jealousy much more improba- 
ble. And this difficulty Shakespeare does not quite overcome. We 
have simply to accept Leontes as causelessly jealous. But once 
this improbability is overcome, once Leontes becomes suspicious, 
then we can enter into the *' probability " of his nature. And 
Shakespeare helps us to overcome the improbability : all the time 
that Hermione, at her husband's request, is persuading Polixenes 
to stay, Leontes is lost in the beginnings^of jealous suspicions, 2 so 
wrapped in them that he is not conscious of what is being said : ^ 
in this interval we are to imagine him considering "that Polixenes 
(Egistus) was a man and needs must love ; that his wife was a 
woman, and therefore subject unto love, and that where fancy 
forced friendship was of no force."* The decision of Polixenes 
lends force to his suspicions : but yet he is only ankle-deep in 
jealousy ; his thoughts go back to the days of his courtship, only 
to recall with bitter irony how Hermione uttered '* I am yours for 
ever." Tremor cordis is on him now : and the force of his passion 
convinces him of the truth of his suspicions : he whips himself into 
fury — and lays a trap, not for his own conviction but simply for a 
sort of formal evidence of something to deny which would be im- 

1 Greene tells us that when Egistus arrived in Bohemia and was met by Pandosto 
and Bellaria, Pandosto "wished his wife to welcome his old friend and acquaintance: 
who (to show how she liked him whom her husband loved) entertained him with a 
familiar courtesy." Shakespeare merely puts this — not at the welcoming of the 
guest — but just before his departure, and so with his consummate skill, enhances 
the character of Hermione. 

2 I, 1. 27-28. Hermione may have given him thus to think by her saying that 
she was waiting till Leontes' effort had failed. (1. 28). 

8 I, 2. 86, where he asks "Is he won yet?" showing that he was not aware of 
Polixenes' decision. * Pandosto. 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

pudent.i He is utterly beside himself, and the diseased mind 
drives him to the most cruel deeds : he becomes the incarnation of 
villainy and cruelty, damning himself utterly by his inhuman 
treatment of his wife 2 and of his new-born child. Leontes is cer- 
tainly monstrous, brutish, and selfish : his language and similes 
display a coarseness of mind, and his actions reveal a fiendish cal- 
lousness to the services of friendship ^ and love, and a vindictive 
fury against supposed enemies : he is goaded into his worst cruelty 
by the thought of being laughed at.^ But yet Shakespeare, unHke 
Greene, would not show him as inhuman altogether. After all he 
is Hermione's husband, and has been worthy of her love : even 
now *'she would be sworn he would believe her: "^ moreover he 
is to be her husband again after his purification by repentance ; 
and so lascivious old Pandosto must be changed to the sorrowing, 
pathetic Leontes. ^ Further still, Leontes is utterly convinced of 
the justice of what he does : he believes he is not a tyrant : '^ and 
appeals to his courtiers for their approbation of his actions :^ he 
believes Mamillius to be sick at his mother's dishonour : ^ his most 
cruel act is devised only after the torture of sleeplessness : lo he 
himself and not Hermione (and as this is an alteration from Greene, 
Shakespeare's intention is manifest) appeals to the oracle : ii even 
Antigonus, despite Paulina and his vision of Hermione, believes in 
the Queen's guilt : 12 and those who take the side of the Queen do 
so not in the best manner, — Paulina with marked tactlessness, 
and Camillo without endeavouring to prove the vanity of Leontes' 
suspicions. And finally Shakespeare never allows us to forget 
that if Leontes' suspicions were true, then his case would be truly 
desperate : as Hermione is rare, so must Leontes' jealousy be great,^' 
and Polixenes reminds us later, both in deed and word, that all a 
father's joy ** is nothing else but fair posterity." 1* And thus Shake- 
speare's immense sympathy and insight work. We are not con- 
doning Leontes at all : Shakespeare never makes evil good : but 

1 I. 2. 274. 

* Leontes' cruelty in this case is the worse in Shakespeare, because, unlike Pandosto, 
he knows that her condition demands the most careful attention. 

» Yet having called his courtiers liars, he makes amends by acceding to their 
requests as "a recompense of their dear services." II. 3. 145-155. 

* II. 3. 23 ff. B 11, 1. 63, 

' The only survival of the horrible incident in Pandosto where the lascivious 
old king makes love to his own daughter (without knowing her identity) is'Leontes* 
pathetic admiration of Perdita because she reminds him of his lost wife . 

' 11. 3. 122. III. 2. 4 ff. 8 11.1.187. » II. 3. 12. 10 II. 8. 1. 

"II. 1. 180, etc. And his momentary rejection (III, ii, 141) of the oracle's 
decision (which is not in Greene) only adds to our realization of the strength of 
his conviction. 

12 III. 3. 40-46. u I. 2. 452-457. " IV. 4. 418-419. 



INTRODUCTION xix 

equally he never makes his most villainous creatures altogether 
inhuman. 

If Shakespeare made a human madman out of a monstrous Pan- 
dosto, his success in making the pathetically majestic Hermione 
out of the insignificant, screeching Bellaria is still more marked. 
We have seen how his first step is to remove all possible taint from 
the Queen : she is not at all unduly familiar with Polixenes ; even 
her walk in the garden with him (an incident taken from the novel) 
is in the play Leontes' own suggestion. Other subtle transforma- 
tions of the original enhance the beauty of the queen's character. 
Thus in Greene, after Pandosto had received his guest, " they 
mounted again on horseback and rode towards the city, devising 
and recounting how, being children, they had passed their youth 
in friendly pastimes " : the hint is seized by Shakespeare, but he 
puts the suggestion for the tales and recollections of childhood into 
the mouth of Hermione ^ with the gain of charming grace. So too, 
her tenderness and love of children and their ways are made evident : 
the only excuse to which she would listen for Polixenes' departure 
would be that *' he longs to see his son '* : 2 and most typical of all, 
out of one line in the novel,^ Shakespeare created the picture of 
childhood and motherhood, Mamillius and his telling of the sad 
tale best for winter to his mother and her ladies.* But Greene's 
Bellaria is unlike Hermione. In the novel, she is ever ready '* to 
burst forth into bitter tears and exclaim against fortune " : in the 
play she is not " prone to weeping,"^ she has perfect control over 
her feehngs, until her cup seems full when she learns of the death 
of her son, and only then does she swoon : but Bellaria has a habit 
of swooning and " falling into a trance." Further still, Bellaria is 
eager to defend herself in court: "she would gladly have come to 
her answer " and she entreats for an appeal to the oracle. But 
Hermione trusts to her own sense of virtue and defends herself 
only when brought to trial, even then not ** to prate and talk for 
life," but only for honour. Indeed, Shakespeare's Hermione is, as 
her image, a royal piece of majesty. But there is no imperiousness 
in her majesty. She unites with it an infinite tenderness ; against 
Leontes' rage, she brings no bitterness ; he is '* but mistaken," and 
the worst she wishes him is to see him sorry for his error. Her 
majesty is just dignity. But Mrs. Jameson has given us the best 
portrait of Shakespeare's Hermione : *' dignity without pride, love 

1 I. 2. 60. 2 I. 2. 34. 

« "Coming to the queen's lodging, thoy found her playing with her young son, 
Garinter." < II. 1. " II i. 108. 



XX INTRODUCTION 

without passion, and tenderness without weakness," she has that 
'* union of gentleness with power which constitutes the perfection 
of mental grace. ^ 

As Shakespeare had to create his Hermione, so Greene offered 
hina little to retain in his portrayal of Perdita : for in the novel she 
is just the typical figure of suchjsentimental love stories, coy and 
gushing by turn, profusely argumentative and cunningly playful, 
but all the time scheming deliberately to obtain a lover, especially 
a princely one.i Of course, she makes him woo her in a battery of 
words before " she yields up the fort in friendly terms," and then 
she presses forward her plans unblushingly : " she told him that 
delay bred danger, that many mishaps did fall out between the cup 
and the hp, and that to avoid danger, it were best with as much 
speed as might be to pass out of Sicilia " to some place where they 
might marry. But Shakespeare transmutes this cheap metal. 
Perdita comes to us as ** Flora peering in April's front " ; her sen- 
sibility and the consciousness of her own nature are at once ob- 
vious, and yet her mode of revealing them is stamped with an in- 
definable grace and humility ; she is too sensible to be carried 
away by FlorizeFs extremes, too humble to chide him for them ; she 
puts them off with exquisite native grace, ^ Unreality, sham, and 
affectation of all sorts are repugnant to her. She will have none of 
nature's bastards in her rustic garden. ^ Her *'borrow'd flaunts ''she 
feels to be unbecoming.^ Unlike Fawnia, she takes no part in the 
arrangement of the flight ; on the contrary, she is troubled by the 
deception it involves, and so she only enters into it because **the 
play so lies that she must bear a part " ; ^ and when their plot fails 
she is convinced it is the justice of the heavens punishing their 
indirections and deceptions.*^ Sincerity is Perdita's prevailing 
quality : she knows herself, she knows Florizel better than he 
knows himself ; and she can look the most distressing facts full in 
the face: ** Will 't please you, sir, be gone?" To hide this self- 
assurance would be affectation as repugnant to her nature as to 
flaunt it in our faces ; we see it but in its native simplicity, as 
much in her resolve ** to queen it no inch further, but mUk her 
ewes and weep " as in her thought to tell the king ** plainly the 
selfsame sun that shines upon his court, hides not his visage from 

1 " Fawnia — seeing such a mannerly shepherd, Dorastus, (disguised, however) per- 
fectly limned, and coming with so good a pace, began half to lorget Dorastus, and 
to favour this pretty shepherd, whom she thought she mi^t both love and ob- 
tain; but as she was in these thoughts, she perceived then that it was the young 
prince I>ora5tus, wherefore she rose up and saluted him," (Pandoslo.) 

J IV. 4. 5 ff. » Ibid. Si ff, * Ibid. 10, etc » J\. 4. 668 ff. • V. I. 20S. 



INTRODUCTION xxi 

her cottage." For, everywhere, Perdita is a pure woman, an en- 
chantment of nobility and homeliness, delicacy and strength. She 
consciously wards off the possibility that rapture should become 
sentiment : ^ her talk is of sheep, of flowers, of Whitsun pastorals, 
and of smock-making. 2 And all her grace and tenderness she 
lavishes on others. At the moment of her keenest grief, her first 
thought is for '* her poor father." ^ We cannot accuse Florizel of 
exaggeration in his ecstasy : 

" each your doing 
So singular in each particular. 
Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, 
That all your acts are queens." ^ 

But we have not space within the limits of this Introduction 
to attempt an analysis of all the characters in the play. With all 
of them there is a sureness and insight of the mature dramatist. 
Florizel is the exuberant, headstrong, perhaps somewhat senti- 
mental, and yet innately noble young prince : Paulina the fearless, 
passionately but tactlessly upright matron, whose wealth of tender 
feeling reveals itself with the mellowing of time. But we must 
pass over many of them to notice only those which present some 
special feature of Shakespeare's genius. Polixenes is a foil to 
Leontes : and as such we must be convinced of his inherent and 
unmistakable nobility. Yet the plot demands of him two possibly 
compromising actions : he must flee with Camillo and so hazard the 
accusation of cowardice in leaving Hermione, and he must cast off 
his son, and so run the risk of appearing unnatural and cruel. 
But Shakespeare prevents these difficulties. Polixenes flees in the 
belief that by so doing Hermione will be freed from the King's 
wrath. ^ And further Polixenes is only incited to his cruel threats by 
Florizel's unfilial refusal to consult his father, a crime tantamount 
to deception. Camillo is Shakespeare's invention, suggested by 
the amalgamation of the offices of the Tranion and the Capnio of 
Greene : he serves to piece the two constituent stories together. 
But to do so, he has to resort to several diplomatic artifices which 
smack more of skill than of simple honesty : he discloses the plot 
to Polixenes,^ and later he deceives Florizel and Perdita."^ There 

1 IV. 4. 130-135. 2 IV. 4. 390-393. s V. i. 202. 

* IV. 4. 143-146. 6 I. 2. 458-460. 

' This is necessary to allow of Polixenes' escape. Franion in Pandosto does the same. 

' This is necessary to curtail the time of the play by m:iking Polixenes follow 
the fugitives immediately. In the novel Egistus hears of tlie whereabouts of his 
8on only after the lapse of considerable time, and then entirely casually, from 
mariners who had voyaged to the land of Pandosto. 



xxii INTRODUCTION 

was indeed no help for iL Camillo had to be the schemer seeking 
by indirections to find directions out : and as such, Uke Polonius, 
he is giren the outlook and philosophy i (that is. the intellectual 
character) of a somewhat prosaic, even cynical man of the world. 
But Shakespeare saves his CamiUo by displaying in him a richness 
of human kindliness and instinctive goodness : and this is his real, 
his native character. His motives, springing from this, are always 
good : it is only his means which are the work but of his brain, 
which cause our misgivings : and they are justified by their suc- 
cess. Yet not without fitness is the schemer Camillo married 
to the impetuous Paulina, when the harmony of things is ulti- 
mately restored- 

And lastly, we come to Autolycus. He is purely of Shake- 
speare's invention. He is not necessary to the plot : indeed the 
only part he has in it, is in bringring the shepherd and the clown 
on board Florizel's ship. In Pand^jsto this was effected by Capnio 
(whose other functions are taken over by Camillo) by sheer 
force. But Shakespeare preferred to do it by ruse.* And thus 
be made way for the master of ruses. Autolycus is the Falstaff 
of rogues and vagabonds. He is Falstaff in little. His traffic is 
sheets, not regiments : he befools knaves, not princes ; his faculty 
is to adapt himself with profit to all circumstances, rather than to 
adapt all circumstances to his profit. But if the copy is in minia- 
ture, there is still the family likeness ; what Honour is to Falstaff, 
Honesty is to Autolycus : both have a fine mental agility and a 
ready tongue : both can affect scruples of conscience for their 
own ends and with the most solemn mock modesty : and to both 
of them knavery is itself a system of morality though not of the 
orthodox sort And if Autolycus is in miniature compared with 
Falstaff, yet there are advantages in that : he is hghter of finger 
and foot, his voice is more tuneful, and his spirits more mischiev- 
ously frolicsome : he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings, not the 
cit)- and the city taverns : indeed he has thrown up the service of 
the court, to settle down into the profession of rc^ue and vaga- 
bond. And he is the most musical and amusing vagabond who 
ever was a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. 

I IV. 4. 58i ff. 

i In the nofvcl, Capnio oataea on Pocnis by chance and simplj to prcrent the <fi»- 
ai the priBoe's flight, canies Porhi abroad by fatee. But Shakespcm 



Mtcntly tries to break down the ovcr-r^ of chanrr. Anldlrca* kaovs that the 
ffc fyh — I lias iulumia tion vUcfa viD atrvc Flotiicl, and ao he entraps the s h rp h ri d 
iaio Florael'fl ship. Thns Shakespeare makes Aubotyam plaj a part in the actaoa 
of the pUy thoogfa he is not vital to it. 



THE WINTER'S TALE 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

Leontes King of Sicilia 

Mamillius Young Prince of Sicilia 

Camillo n 

Antigonus f Four Lords of Sicilia 

Cleomenes [ 
Dion / 

PoLixENES King of Bohemia 

Florizel ..,..,..• Prince of Bohemia 

Archidamus A Lord of Bohemia 

Old Shepherd Reputed father of Perdita 

Clown His son 

\{AuTOLYcus A rogue 

A Mariner 
A Gaoler 

Hermione Queen to Leontes 

Perdita .... Daughter to Leontes and Hermione 

Paulina Wife to Antigonus 

Emilia A lady attending on Hermione 

MOPSA 

Dorcas 



r Shepherdesses 



Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, and 
Servants, Shepherds, and Shepherdesses 

Time, as Chorus 

SCENE — Sicilia and Bohemia 



XXIV 



The WINTER'S Tale ■ 

ACT I 

Scene I — Antechamber in Leontes' palace 

Enter Camillo and Archidamus 

Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohe- 
mia, on the like occasion whereon my services are 
now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great dif- 
ference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia. 

Cam, I think, this coming summer, the King of 
Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which 
he justly owes him. 

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame 
us we will be justified in our loves; for indeed — lo 

Cam. Beseech you, — 

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my 
knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence — 
in so rare — I know not what to say. We will give 
you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of 
our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise 
us, as little accuse us. 

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's 
given freely. 

Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understand- 20 
ing instructs me and as mine honesty puts it to 
utterance. 

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to 
Bohemia. They were trained together in their 

1 



2 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then 
such an affection, which cannot choose but branch 
now. Since their more mature dignities and royal 
necessities made separation of their society, their 
encounters, though not personal, have been royally 
attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving so 
embassies; that they have seemed to be together, 
though absent, shook hands, as over a vast, and 
embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed 
winds. The heavens continue their loves! 

Arch. I think there is not in the world either 
mahce or matter to alter it. You have an unspeak- 
able comfort of your young prince Mamillius: it 
is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever 
came into my note. 40 

Cam, I very well agree with you in the hopes 
of him: it is a gallant child; one that indeed physics 
the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went 
on crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to 
see him a man. 

Arch. Would they else be content to die.^ 

Cam, Yes; if there were no other excuse why 
they should desire to hve. 

Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire 
to live on crutches till he had one. [Exeunt. 50 

Scene II — A rooin of state in the same 

Enter Leontes^ Hermione^ Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo, 
and Attendants 

Pol. Nine changes of the watery star hath been 
The shepherd's note since we have left our throne 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 3 

Without a burthen: time as long again 

Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks; 

And yet we should, for perpetuity. 

Go hence in debt : and therefore, like a cipher, 

Yet standing in rich place, I multiply 

With one "We thank you" many thousands moe 

That go before it. 

Leon, Stay your thanks a while; 

And pay them when you part. 

PoL Sir, that's to-morrow, lo 

I am questioned by my fears, of what may chance 
Or breed upon our absence; that may blow 
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say 
**This is put forth too truly:" besides, I have stay'd 
To tire your royalty. 

Leon. We are tougher, brother, 
Than you can put us to 't. 

PoL No longer stay. 

Leon. One seven-night longer. 

Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow. 

Leon. We'll part the time between 's then; and 
in that 
I '11 no gainsaying. 

Pol. Press me not, beseech you, so. 

There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the 

world, 20 

So soon as yours could win me: so it should now. 
Were there necessity in your request, although 
'T were needful I denied it. My affairs 
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder 
Were in your love a whip to me; my stay 
To you a charge and trouble: to save both. 



4 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

Farewell, our brother. 

Leon. Tongue-tied our queen? speak you. 

Her, I had thought, sir, to have held my peace 
until 
You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, 

sir, 
Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure so 
All in Bohemia's well; this satisfaction 
The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him. 
He 's beat from his best ward. 

Leon, Well said, Hermione. 

Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong: 
But let him say so then, and let him go; 
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay. 
We '11 thwack him hence with distaffs. 
Yet of your royal presence I '11 adventure 
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia 
You take my lord, I '11 give him my commission io 
To let him there a month behind the gest 
Prefix'd for 's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes, 
I love thee not a jar o ' the clock behind 
What lady she her lord. You '11 stay? 

Pol, No, madam. 

Her, Nay, but you will? 

Pol, I may not, verily. 

Her, Verily! 
You put me off with limber vows; but I, 
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars 

with oaths. 
Should yet say **Sir, no going." Verily, 
You shall not go: a lady's "Verily" 's 50 

As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 5 

Force me to keep you as a prisoner, 

Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees 

When you depart, and save your thanks. How 

say you? 
My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread "Verily," 
One of them you shall be. 

PoL Your guest, then, madam: 

To be your prisoner should import offending; 
Which is for me less easy to commit 
Than you to punish. 

Her. Not your gaoler, then. 

But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you eo 
Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were 

boys: 
You were pretty lordings then? 

PoL We were, fair queen. 

Two lads that thought there was no more behind 
But such a day to-morrow as to-day. 
And to be boy eternal. 

Her. Was not my lord 

The verier wag o' the two? 

PoL We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk 
i' the sun. 
And bleat the one at the other: what we changed 
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not 
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream 'd 70 

That any did. Had we pursued that life. 
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd 
With stronger blood, we should have answer 'd 

heaven 
Boldly "not guilty;" the imposition clear 'd 
Hereditary ours. 



6 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

Her. By this we gather 

You have tripp'd since. 

PoL O my most sacred lady! 

Temptations have since then been born to's; for 
In those unfledged days was my wife a girl; 
Your precious self had then not cross 'd the eyes 
Of my young play-fellow. 

Her, Grace to boot ! so 

Of this make no conclusion, lest you say 
Your queen and I are devils: yet go on; 
The offences we have made you do we '11 answer, 
If you first sinn'd with us and that with us 
You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not 
With any but with us. 

Leon, Is he won yet? 

Her, He'll stay, my lord. 

Leon, At my request he would not. 

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest 
To better purpose. 

Her. Never? 

Leon. Never, but once. 

Her. What! have I twice said well? when was 't 

before? 90 

I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's 
As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongue- 
less 
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. 
Our praises are our wages: you may ride's 
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere 
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal: 
My last good deed was to entreat his stay: 
What was my first? it has an elder sister, 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 7 

Or I mistake you: O, would her name were 

Grace ! 
But once before I spoke to the purpose: when? loo 
Nay, let me have 't; I long. 

Leon, Why, that was when 

Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to 

death, 
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand 
And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter 
"I am yours for ever." 

Her, 'T is grace indeed. 

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose 

twice: 
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband; 
The other for some while a friend. 

Leon. [Aside] Too hot, too hot! 

To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. 
I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; no 
But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment 
May a free face put on, derive a liberty 
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom. 
And well become the agent; 't may, I grant; 
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers. 
As now they are, and making practised smiles. 
As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 't were 
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment 
My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius, 
Art thou my boy? 

Mam. Ay, my good lord. 

Leon, V fecks! 120 

Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutched 
thy nose? 



8 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain. 

We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain: 

And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf 

Are all call'd neat. — Still virginalling 

Upon his palm! — How now, you wanton calf! 

Art thou my calf? 

Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord. 

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots 
that I have. 
To be full like me : yet they say we are 
Almost as like as eggs; women say so, i80 

That will say any thing: but were they false 
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false 
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes 
No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true 
To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page. 
Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain! 
Most dear'st! my coUop! Can thy dam? — may 't 

be? — 
Affection! thy intention stabs the centre: 
Thou dost make possible things not so held, 
Communicatest with dreams; — how can this be? — 140 
With what 's unreal thou coactive art. 
And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent 
Thou may 'st co-join with something; and thou dost. 
And that beyond commission, and I find it. 
And that to the infection of my brains 
And hardening of my brows. 

Pol. What means Sicilia? 

Her. He something seems unsettled. 

Pol. How, my lord! 

What cheer? how is 't with you, best brother? 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 9 

Her. You look 

As if you held a brow of much distraction: 
Are you moved, my lord? 

Leon, No, in good earnest. 150 

How sometimes nature will betray its folly. 
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime 
To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines 
Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil 
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd. 
In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled. 
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove. 
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous: 
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel. 
This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend, leo 
Will you take eggs for money? 

Mam. No, my lord, I '11 fight. 

Leon. You will! why, happy man be 's dole! 
My brother. 
Are you so fond of your young price as we 
Do seem to be of ours? 

Pol. If at home, sir. 

He 's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter. 
Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy. 
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all : 
He makes a July's day short as December, 
And with his varying childness cures in me no 

Thoughts that would thick my blood. 

Leon. So stands this squire 

Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord. 
And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione, 
How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome; 
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap: 



10 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

Next to thyself and my young rover, he 's 
Apparent to my heart. 

Her. If you would seek us, 

We are yours i' the garden: shall 's attend you 

there? 
Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll 

be found, 
Be you beneath the sky. [Aside] I am angling 

now, 180 

Though you perceive me not how I give line. 
Go to, go to! 

How she holds up the neb, the bill to him! 
And arms her with the boldness of a wife 
To her allowing husband ! 

[Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants. 
Gone already! 
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd 

one! 
Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I 
Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue 
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour 
Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There 

have been, 190 

Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now; 
And many a man there is, even at this present, 
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm. 
That little thinks she has been sluiced in 's absence 
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by 
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't 
Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd. 
As mine, against their will. Should all despair 
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 11 

Would hang themselves. Physic for 't there is none; 200 

It is a bawdy planet, that will strike 

Where 't is predominant; and 't is powerful, think it. 

From east, west, north and south: be it concluded. 

No barricado for a belly; know 't; 

It will let in and out the enemy 

With bag and baggage: many thousand on's 

Have the disease, and feel 't not. How now, boy! 

Mam. I am like you, they say. 

Leon, Why, that 's some comfort. 

What, Camillo there? 

Cam. Ay, my good lord. «io 

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou 'rt an honest 

man. [Exit Mamillius. 

Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. 

Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor 
hold: 
When you cast out, it still came home. 

Leon. Didst note it? 

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; made 
His business more material. 

Leon. Didst perceive it? 

[Aside] They 're here with me already, whispering, 

rounding 
" Sicilia is a so-forth:" 't is far gone. 
When I shall gust it last. How came 't, Camillo, 
That he did stay? 

Cam. At the good queen's entreaty. 220 

Leon. At the queen's be't: "good" should be 
pertinent; 
But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken 
By any understanding pate but thine ii 



12 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in 
More than the common blocks : not noted, is 't. 
But of the finer natures? by some severals 
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes 
Perchance are to this business purblind? say. 

Cam. Business, my lord ! I think most understand 
Bohemia stays here longer. 

Leon. Ha ! 

Cam, Stays here longer. 2S0 

Leon, Ay, but why? 

Cam, To satisfy your highness and the entreaties 
Of our most gracious mistress. 

Leon. Satisfy! 

The entreaties of your mistress ! satisfy ! 
Let that suflSce. I have trusted thee, Camillo, 
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well 
My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-hke, thou 
Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed 
Thy penitent reformed: but we have been 
Deceived in thy integrity, deceived S40 

In that which seems so. 

Cam, Be it forbid, my lord ! 

Leon, To bide upon't, thou art not honest, or, . 
If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward, 
Which boxes honesty behind, restraining 
From course required; or else thou must be counted 
A servant grafted in my serious trust 
And therein negligent; or else a fool 
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn. 
And takest it all for jest. 

Cam, My gracious lord, 

I may be negligent, foolish and fearful; 250 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 13 

In every one of these no man is free, 

But that his negligence, his folly, fear, 

Among the infinite doings of the world, 

Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord. 

If ever I were wilful-negligent, 

It was my folly; if industriously 

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence. 

Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful 

To do a thing, where I the issue doubted, 

Whereof the execution did cry out 260 

Against the non-performance, 't was a fear 

Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord. 

Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty 

Is never free of. But, beseech your grace. 

Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass 

By its own visage: if I then deny it, 

'T is none of mine. 

Leon, Ha' not you seen, Camillo, — 

But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass 
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn, — or heard, — 
For to a vision so apparent rumour 270 

Cannot be mute, — or thought, — for cogitation 
Resides not in that man that does not think, — 
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess. 
Or else be impudently negative. 
To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say 
My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name 
As rank as any flax-wench that puts to 
Before her troth-plight: say 't and justify 't. 

Cam, I would not be a stander-by to hear 
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without 28O 

My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart. 



14 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

You never spoke what did become you less 
Than this; which to reiterate were sin 
As deep as that, though true. 

Leon, Is whispering nothing? 

Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? 
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career 
Of laughter with a sigh? — a note infallible 
Of breaking honesty — horsing foot on foot? 
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift? 
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes 290 
Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only. 
That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? 
Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing; 
The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; 
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, 
If this be nothing. 

Cam. Good my lord, be cured 

Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; 
For 't is most dangerous. 

Leon. Say it be, 't is true. 

Cam. No, no, my lord. 

Leon. It is; you lie, you lie: 

I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, soo 

Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave. 
Or else a hovering temporizer, that 
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil. 
Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver 
Infected as her life, she would not live 
The running of one glass. 

Cam. Who does infect her? 

Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal, 
hanging 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 15 

About his neck, Bohemia: who, if I 

Had servants true about me, that bare eyes 

To see ahke mine honour as their profits, sio 

Their own particular thrifts, they would do that 

Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou. 

His cup-bearer, — whom I from meaner form 

Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see 

Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven, 

How I am galled, — mightst bespice a cup, 

To give mine enemy a lasting wink; 

Which draught to me were cordial. 

Cam. Sir, my lord, 

I could do this, and that with no rash potion. 
But with a lingering dram that should not work S20 
Maliciously like poison: but I cannot 
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress. 
So sovereignly being honourable. 
I have loved thee, — 

Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot! 
Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled. 
To appoint myself in this vexation, sully 
The purity and whiteness of my sheets. 
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted 
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps. 
Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, sso 
Who I do think is mine and love as mine. 
Without ripe moving to 't? Would I do this? 
Could man so blench? 

Cam. I must believe you, sir: 

I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for 't; 
Provided that, when he 's removed, your highness 
Will take again your queen as yours at first, 



16 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing 
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms 
Known and alHed to yours. 

Leon, Thou dost advise me 

Even so as I mine own course have set down: 340 
I '11 give no blemish to her honour, none. 
\ Cam, My lord. 

Go then; and with a countenance as clear 
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia 
And with your queen. I am his cupbearer; 
If from me he have wholesome beverage. 
Account me not your servant. 

Leon, This is all: 

Do't and thou hast the one half of my heart; 
Do 't not, thou split'st thine own. 

Cam, I '11 do 't, my lord. 

Leon, I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised 

me. [Exit, 350 

Cam, O miserable lady! But, for me, 
What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner 
Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do 't 
Is the obedience to a master, one 
Who in rebellion with himself will have 
All that are his so too. To do this deed, 
Promotion follows. If I could find example 
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings 
And flourish'd after, I 'Id not do't; but since 
Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, seo 
Let villany itself forswear 't. I must 
Forsake the court : to do 't, or no, is certain 
To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now! 
Here comes Bohemia. 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 17 

Re-enter Polixenes 

Pol, This is strange: methinks 

My favour here begins to warp. Not speak? 
Good day, Camillo. 

Cam. Hail, most royal sir! 

PoL What is the news i' the court? 

Cam. None rare, my lord. 

Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance 
As he had lost some province and a region 
Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him 370 
With customary compliment; when he. 
Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling 
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and 
So leaves me to consider what is breeding 
That changeth thus his manners. 

Cam. I dare not know, my lord. 

Pol. How! dare not! do not. Do you know, 
and dare not? 
Be intelligent to me: 't is thereabouts; 
For, to yourself, what you do know, you must. 
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, sso 
Your changed complexions are to me a mirror 
Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be 
A party in this alteration, finding 
Myself thus alter'd with't. 

Cam. There is a sickness 

Which puts some of us in distemper, but 
I cannot name the disease; and it is caught 
Of you that yet are well. 

Pol. How! caught of me! 

Make me not sighted like the basilisk: 



18 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Okb 

I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better 
By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo, — 390 

As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto 
Clerk-like experienced, which no less adorns 
Our gentry than our parents' noble names. 
In whose success we are gentle, — I beseech you, 
If you know aught which does behove my knowledge 
Thereof to be inform 'd, imprison 't not 
In ignorant concealment. 

Cam. I may not answer. 

Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well! 
I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo? 
I conjure thee, by all the parts of man 4oe 

Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least 
Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare 
What incidency thou dost guess of harm 
Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near; 
Which way to be prevented, if to be; 
If not, how best to bear it. 

Cam. Sir, I will tell you; 

Since I am charged in honour and by him 
That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel. 
Which must be even as swiftly foUow'd as 
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me 410 

Cry ''lost," and so good night! 

Pol. On, good Camillo. 

Cam. I am appointed him to murder you. 

Pol. By whom, Camillo? 

Cam. By the king. 

Pol. For what? 

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he 
swears, 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 19 

As he had seen't or been an instrument 

To vice you to 't, that you have touch'd his queen 

Forbiddenly. 

Pol. O, then my best blood turn 

To an infected jelly and my name 
Be yoked with his that did betray the Best! 
Turn then my freshest reputation to 420 

A savour that may strike the dullest nostril 
Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, 
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection 
That e 'er was heard or read ! 

Cam. Swear his thought over 

By each particular star in heaven and 
By all their influences, you may as well 
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon 
As or by oath remove or counsel shake 
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation 
Is piled upon his faith and will continue 430 

The standing of his body. 

Pol. How should this grow? 

Cam. I know not: but I am sure 'tis safer to 
Avoid what 's grown than question how 't is born. 
If therefore you dare trust my honesty. 
That lies enclosed in this trunk which you 
Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night! 
Your followers I will whisper to the business. 
And will by twos and threes at several posterns 
Clear them o ' the city. For myself, I '11 put 
My fortunes to your service, which are here 440 

By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain; 
For, by the honour of my parents, I 
Have utter'd truth: which if you seek to prove, 



20 THE WINTER^S TALE [Act One 

I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer 

Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, 

thereon 
His execution sworn. 

Pol. I do believe thee : 

I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand: 
Be pilot to me and thy places shall 
Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and 
My people did expect my hence departure 450 

Two days ago. This jealousy 
Is for a precious creature : as she 's rare, 
Must it be great, and as his person 's mighty, 
Must it be violent, and as he does conceive 
He is dishonour' d by a man which ever 
Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must 
In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me: 
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort 
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing 
Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo; 460 

I will respect thee as a father if 
Thou bear'st my life oflP hence: let us avoid. 

Cam, It is in mine authority to command 
The keys of all the posterns : please your highness 
To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. 

[Exeunt. 



ACT II 

Scene I — 'A room in Leontes* palace 
Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies 

Her. Take the boy to you: he so troubles me, 
*T is past enduring. 

First Lady. Come, my gracious lord. 
Shall I be your playfellow? 

Mam. No, I '11 none of you. 

First Lady. Why, my sweet lord? 

Mam. You '11 kiss me hard and speak to me as if 
I were a baby still. I love you better. 

Sec. Lady. And why so, my lord? 

Mam. Not for because 

Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say. 
Become some women best, so that there be not 
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle, lo 

Or a half -moon made with a pen. 

Sec. Lady. Who taught' this? 

Mam. Ilearnt it out of women's faces. Pray now ' 
What colour are your eyebrows? 

First Lady. Blue, my lord. 

Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's 
nose 
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows. 

First Lady. Hark ye; 

The queen your mother rounds apace: we shall 
Present our services to a fine new prince 
One of these days; and then you'ld wanton with us. 
If we would have you. 

21 



22 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

Sec. Lady. She is spread of late 

Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her! 20 

Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, 
sir, now 
I am for you again: pray you, sit by us. 
And tell 's a tale. 

Mam. Merry or sad shall 't be? 

Her. As merry as you will. 

Mam. A sad tale's best for winter: I have one 
Of sprites and goblins. 

Her. Let's have that, good sir. 

Come on, sit down: come on, and do your best 
To fright me with your sprites; you 're powerful at it. 

Mam. There was a man — 

Her. Nay, come, sit down; then on. 

Mam. Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it 

softly; 30 

Yond crickets shall not hear it. 

Her. Come on, then. 

And give't me in mine ear. 

Enter Leontes, with Antigonus, Lords^ and others 

Leon. Was he met there? his train? Camillo 
with him? 

First Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; 
never 
Saw I men scour so on their way; I eyed them 
Even to their ships. 

Leon. How blest am I 

In my just censure, in my true opinion! 
Alack, for lesser knowledge ! how accursed 
In being so blest! There may be in the cup 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 23 

A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart, ' 40 

And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge 

Is not infected : but if one present 

The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known 

How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides. 

With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the 

spider. 
Camillo was his help in this, his pander: 
There is a plot against my life, my crown; 
All's true that is mistrusted: that false villain 
Whom I employ 'd was pre-employ'd by him:. 
He has discovered my design, and I 50 

Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick 
For them to play at will. How came the posterns 
So easily open.^ 

First Lord. By his great authority; 
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so 
On your command. 

Leon. I know't too well. 

Give me the boy: I am glad you did not nurse him: 
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you 
Have too much blood in him. 

Her. What is this? sport? 

Leon. Bear the boy hence; he shall not come 
about her; 
Away with him ! and let her sport herself eo 

With that she's big with; for 't is Polixenes 
Has made thee swell thus. 

Her. But I 'Id say he had not. 

And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying, 
Howe'er you lean to the nayward. 

Leon. You, my lords, 



24 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

Look on her, mark her well; be but about 

To say ''she is a goodly lady/' and 

The justice of your hearts will thereto add 

"'T is pity she's not honest, honourable:" 

Praise her but for this her without-door form. 

Which on my faith deserves high speech, and 

straight 70 

The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands 
That calumny doth use — O, I am out — 
That mercy does, for calumny will sear 
Virtue itseK: these shrugs, these hums and ha's, 
When you have said "she's goodly," come between 
Ere you can say "she's honest:" but be't known. 
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be. 
She's an adulteress. 

Her. Should a villain say so. 

The most replenish'd villain in the world, 
He were as much more villain: you, my lord, so 

Do but mistake. 

Leon, You have mistook, my lady, 

Polixenes for Leontes: O thou thing! 
Which I '11 not call a creature of thy place. 
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent. 
Should a like language use to all degrees 
And mannerly distinguishment leave out 
Betwixt the prince and beggar: I have said 
She's an adulteress; I have said with whom: 
More, she's a traitor and Camillo is 
A federary with her, and one that knows oo 

What she should shame to know herself 
But with her most vile principal, that she's 
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 25 

That vulgars give bold'st titles, ay, and privy 
To this their late escape. 

Her, No, by my life. 

Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you. 
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that 
You thus have published me ! Gentle my lord, 
You scarce can right me throughly then to say 
You did mistake. 

Leon. No; if I mistake loo 

In those foundations which I build upon. 
The centre is not big enough to bear 
A school-boy's top. Away with her! to prison! 
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty 
But that he speaks. 

Her, There's some ill planet reigns: 

I must be patient till the heavens look 
With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords, ; 
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex 
Commonly are; the want of which vain dew 
Perchance shall dry your pities : but I have no 

That honourable grief lodged here which burns 
Worse than tears drown : beseech you all, my lords. 
With thoughts so qualified as your charities 
Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so 
The king's will be perform'd! 

Leon, Shall I be heard? 

Her. Who is 't that goes with me? Beseech 
your highness, 
My women may be with me; for you see 
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools; 
There is no cause: when you shall know your mis- 
tress 



26 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

Has deserved prison, then abound in tears 120 

As I come out: this action I now go on 

Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord : 

I never wish'd to see you sorry; now 

I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave. 

Leon. Go, do our bidding; hence! 

[Exit QueeUy guarded: with Ladies 

First Lord. Beseech your highness, call the 
queen again. 

Ant. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your jus- 
tice 
Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer, 
Yourself, your queen, your son. 

First Lord. For her, my lord, 

I dare my life lay down and will do 't, sir, iso 

Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless 
I' the eyes of heaven and to you; I mean. 
In this which you accuse her. 

Ant. If it prove 

She 's otherwise, I '11 keep my stables where 
I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her; 
Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her; 
For every inch of woman in the world. 
Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false. 
If she be. 

Leon. Hold your peaces. 

First Lord. Good my lord, — 

Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves : 140 
You are abused and by some putter-on 
That will be damn'd for 't; would I knew the villain, 
I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd, 
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven; 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 27 

The second and the third, nine, and some five; 

If this prove true, they '11 pay for 't : by mine honour, 

I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see. 

To bring false generations: they are co-heirs; 

And I had rather glib myself than they 

Should not produce fair issue. 

Leon, Cease; no more. iso 

You smell this business with a sense as cold 
As is a dead man's nose: but I do see 't and feel 't, 
As you feel doing thus; and see withal 
The instruments that feel. 

Ant, If it be so, 

We need no grave to bury honesty: 
There 's not a grain of it the face to sweeten 
Of the whole dungy earth. 

Leon, What! lack I credit? 

First Lord, I had rather you did lack than I, 
my lord. 
Upon this ground; and more it would content me 
To have her honour true than your suspicion, leo 

Be blamed for 't how you might. 

Leon, Why, what need we 

Commune with you of this, but rather follow 
Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative 
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness 
Imparts this; which if you, or stupified 
Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not 
Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves 
We need no more of your advice: the matter, 
The loss, the gain, the ordering on 't, is all 
Properly ours. 

Ant. And I wish, my liege, 170 



28 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

You had only in your silent judgment tried it. 
Without more overture. 

Leon, How could that be? 

Either thou art most ignorant by age, 
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight. 
Added to their familiarity, 
Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture. 
That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation 
But only seeing, all other circumstances 
Made up to the deed, doth push on this proceeding: 
Yet, for a greater confirmation, iso 

For in an act of this importance 't were 
Most piteous to be wild, I have dispatch'd in post 
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple, 
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know 
Of stuff 'd sufficiency : now from the oracle 
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had. 
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well? 

First Lord. Well done, my lord. 

Leon, Though I am satisfied and need no more 
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle 190 

Give rest to the minds of others, such as he 
Whose ignorant credulity will not 
Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good 
From our free person she should be confined, 
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence 
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us; 
We are to speak in public; for this business 
Will raise us all. 

Ant, [Aside] To laughter, as I take it. 
If the good truth were known. [Exeunt, 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 29 

Scene II — A prison 

Enter Paulina^ a Gentleman and Attendants 

Paul. The keeper of the prison, call to him; 
Let him have knowledge who I am. [Exit Gent. 

Good lady, 
No court in Europe is too good for thee; 
What dost thou then in prison? 

Re-enter Gentleman with the Gaoler 

Now, good sir. 
You know me, do you not? 

Gaol. For a worthy lady 

And one whom much I honour. 

Paul. Pray you then. 

Conduct me to the queen. 

Gaol. I may not, madam: 

To the contrary I have express commandment. 

Paul. Here's ado, 
To lock up honesty and honour from lo 

The access of gentle visitors! Is 't lawful, pray you, 
To see her women? any of them? Emilia? 

Gaol. So please you, madam, 
To put apart these your attendants, I 
Shall bring Emiha forth. 

Paul. I pray now, call her. 

Withdraw yourselves. 

[Exeunt Gentleman and Attendants. 

Gaol. And, madam, 

I must be present at your conference. 

Paul. Well, be 't so, prithee. [Exit Gaoler. 



so THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

Here 's such ado to make no stain a stain 
As passes colouring. 

Re-enter Gaoler, with Emilia 

Dear gentlewoman, 20 

How fares our gracious lady? 

EmiL As well as one so great and so forlorn 
May hold together: on her frights and griefs. 
Which never tender lady hath borne greater. 
She is something before her time deliver 'd. 

Paul. A boy? 

EmiL A daughter, and a goodly babe. 

Lusty and like to live: the queen receives 
Much comfort in 't; says "My poor prisoner, 
I am innocent as you." 

Paul, I dare be sworn : 

These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king, beshrew 

them ! so 

He must be told on 't, and he shall: the office 
Becomes a woman best; I'll take 't upon me: 
If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister 
And never to my red-look'd anger be 
The trumpet any more. Pray you, Emilia, 
Commend my best obedience to the queen: 
If she dares trust me with her little babe, 
I '11 show 't the king and undertake to be 
Her advocate to the loud'st. We do not know 
How he may soften at the sight o' the child: 40 

The silence often of pure innocence 
Persuades when speaking fails. 

EmiL Most w^orthy madam. 

Your honour and your goodness is so evident 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 31 

That your free undertaking cannot miss 

A thriving issue : there is no lady hving 

So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship 

To visit the next room, I '11 presently 

Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer; 

Who but to-day hammer'd of this design, 

But durst not tempt a minister of honour, 50 

Lest she should be denied. 

Paul, Tell her, Emilia, 

I'll use that tongue I have: if wit flow from 't 
As boldness from my bosom, let 't not be doubted 
I shall do good. 

Emil, Now be you blest for it ! 

I'll to the queen: please you, come something nearer. 

Gaol. Madam, if 't please the queen to send the 
babe, 
I know not what I shall incur to pass it, 
Having no warrant. 

PauL You need not fear it, sir: 

This child was prisoner to the womb and is 
By law and process of great nature thence eo 

Freed and enfranchised, not a party to 
The anger of the king nor guilty of, 
If any be, the trespass of the queen. 

Gaol. I do believe it. 

Paul. Do not you fear: upon mine honour, I 
Will stand betwixt you and danger. [Exeunt. 

Scene HI — A room in Leontes' palace 
Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords^ and Servants 

Leon. Nor night nor day no rest: it is but 
weakness 



32 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

To bear the matter thus; mere weakness. If 
The cause were not in being, — part o' the cause. 
She the adulteress; for the harlot king 
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank 
And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she 
I can hook to me: say that she were gone. 
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest 
Might come to me again. Who's there? 

First Serv. My lord? 

Leon. How does the boy? 

First Serv. He took good rest to-night; lo 

'T is hoped his sickness is discharg'd. 

Leon. To see his nobleness! 
Conceiving the dishonour of his mother, 
He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply, 
Fastened and fix'd the shame on 't in himself, 
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep, 
And downright languish'd. Leave me solely: go, 
See how he fares. [Exit Serv.] Fie, fie! no thought 

of him: 
The very thought of my revenges that way 
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty, 20 

And in his parties, his alliance; let him be 
Until a time may serve: for present vengeance, 
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes 
Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow: 
They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor 
Shall she within my power. 

Enter Paulina^ Tvith a child 

First Lord. You must not enter. 

Paul. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second 
to me: 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 33 

Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, 
Than the queen's Hfe? a gracious innocent soul. 
More free than he is jealous. 

Ant. That's enough. so 

Sec. Serv. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; 
commanded 
None should come at him. 

Paul. Not so hot, good sir: 

I come to bring him sleep. 'T is such as you. 
That creep like shadows by him and do sigh 
At each his needless heavings, such as you 
Nourish the cause of his awaking: I 
Do come with words as medicinal as true. 
Honest as either, to purge him of that humour 
That presses him from sleep. 

Leon. What noise there, ho? 

Paul. No noise, my lord; but needful conference 40 
About some gossips for your highness. 

Leon. How! 

Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus, 
I charged thee that she should not come about me: 
I knew she would. 

Ant. I told her so, my lord, 

On your displeasure's peril and on mine. 
She should not visit you. 

Leon. What, canst not rule her? 

Paul. From all dishonesty he can: in this, 
Unless he take the course that you have done, 
Commit me for committing honour, trust it, 
He shall not rule me. 

Ant. La you now, you hear: 50 

When she will take the rein I let her run; 



34 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

But she'll not stumble. 

Paul. Good my liege, I come; 

And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess 
Myself your loyal servant, your physician. 
Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dare 
Less appear so in comforting your evils. 
Than such as most seem yours: I say, I come 
From your good queen. 

Leon. Good queen! 

Paul. Good queen, my lord. 

Good queen; I say good queen; 

And would by combat make her good, so were I eo 
A man, the worst about you. 

Leon. Force her hence. 

Paul. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes 
First hand me: on mine own accord I'll off; 
But first I '11 do my errand. The good queen. 
For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter; 
Here 't is; commends it to your blessing. 

[Laying down the child. 

Leon. Out! 

A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door: 
A most intelligencing bawd ! 

Paul. Not so: 

I am as ignorant in that as you 

In so entitling me, and no less honest 70 

Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant. 
As this world goes, to pass for honest. 

Leon. Traitors! 

Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard. 
Thou dotard ! thou art woman-tired, unroosted 
By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard; 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 35 

Take 't up, I say; give 't to thy crone. 

PauL For ever 

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou 
Takest up the princess by that forced baseness 
Which he has put upon 't! 

Leon. He dreads his wife. 

PauL So I would you did; then 'twere past all 

doubt 80 

You 'Id call your children yours. 

Leon. A nest of traitors! 

Ant. I am none, by this good light. 

Paul. Nor I, nor any 

But one that 's here, and that 's himself, for he 
The sacred honour of himself, his queen's. 
His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander. 
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will 

not — 
For, as the case now stands, it is a curse 
He cannot be compell'd to 't — once remove 
The root of his opinion, which is rotten 
As ever oak or stone was sound. 

Leon. A callet so 

Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her hus- 
band 
And now baits me! This brat is none of mine; 
It is the issue of Polixenes : 
Hence with it, and together with the dam 
Commit them to the fire ! 

Paul. It is yours; 

And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge. 
So like you, 't is the worse. Behold, my lords. 
Although the print be little, the whole matter 



S6 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

And copy of the father, eye, nose, hp. 

The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, loo 

The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek. 

His smiles. 

The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger: 

And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it 

So like to him that got it, if thou hast 

The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours 

No yellow in 't, lest she suspect, as he does. 

Her children not her husband's ! 

Leon. A gross hag! 

And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd. 
That wilt not stay her tongue. 

Ant. Hang all the husbands no 

That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself 
Hardly one subject. 

Leon. Once more, take her hence. 

Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord 
Can do no more. 

Leon. I '11 ha' thee burnt. 

Paul. I care not: 

It is an heretic that makes the fire. 
Not she which bums in 't. I'll not call you tyrant; 
But this most cruel usage of your queen. 
Not able to produce more accusation 
Than your own weak-hinged fancy, something 

savours 
Of tyranny and will ignoble make you, lao 

Yea, scandalous to the world. 

Leon. On your allegiance, 

Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant, 
Where were her life? she durst not call me so. 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 87 

If she did know me one. Away with her! 

Paul. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone. 
Look to your babe, my lord; 't is yours: Jove send 

her 
A better guiding spirit! What needs these hands? 
You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies, 
Will never do him good, not one of you. 
So, so: farewell; we are gone. [Exit.i^o 

Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this. 
My child .f^ away with 't! Even thou, that hast 
A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence 
And see it instantly consumed with iSre; 
Even thou and none but thou. Take it up straight: 
Within this hour bring me word 't is done, * 
And by good testimony, or I '11 seize thy life. 
With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse 
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so; 
The bastard brains with these my proper hands 
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire; i40 

For thou set'st on thy wife. 

Ant. I did not, sir: 

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please. 
Can clear me in 't. 

Lords. We can: my royal liege. 

He is not guilty of her coming hither. 

Leon. You're liars all. 

First Lord. Beseech your highness, give us better 
credit : 
We have always truly served you, and beseech 

you 
So to esteem of us, and on our knees we beg. 
As recompense of our dear services 150 



38 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

Past and to come, that you do change this purpose. 
Which being so horrible, so bloody, must 
Lead on to some foul issue: we all kneel. 

Leon, I am a feather for each wind that blows: 
Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel 
And call me father? better burn it now 
Than curse it then. But be it; let it live. 
It shall not neither. You, sir, come you hither; 
You that have been so tenderly officious 
With Lady Margery, your midwife there, leo 

To save this bastard's life, — for 't is a bastard, 
So sure as this beard 's grey, — what will you 

adventure 
To save this brat's life? 

Ant. Any thing, my lord, 

That my ability may undergo 
And tiobleness impose: at least thus much: 
I '11 pawn the little blood which I have left 
To save the innocent: any thing possible. 

Leon, It shall be possible. Swear by this sword 
Thou wilt perform my bidding. 

AnL I will, my lord. 

Leon. Mark and perform it, see'st thou: for the 

fail 170 

Of any point in 't shall not only be 
Death to thyself but to thy lewd-tongued wife. 
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee, 
As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry 
This female bastard hence and that thou bear it 
To some remote and desert place quite out / 

Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it. 
Without more mercy, to it own protection 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 39 

And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune 
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee, iso 

On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture. 
That thou commend it strangely to some place 
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up. 

Ant, I swear to do this, though a present death 
Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe: 
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens 
To be thy nurses ! Wolves and bears, they say, 
Casting their savageness aside have done 
Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous 
In more than this deed does require ! And blessing 190 
Against this cruelty fight on thy side. 
Poor thing, condemn'd to loss! [Exit with the child. 

Leon, No, I '11 not rear 

Another's issue. 

Enter a Servant 

Serv. Please your highness, posts 

From those you sent to the oracle are come 
An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion, 
Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed, 
Hasting to the court. 

First Lord, So please you, sir, their speed 

Hath been beyond account. 

Leon, Twenty three days 

They have been absent: 't is good speed; foretells 
The great Apollo suddenly will have 200 

The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords; 
Summon a session, that we may arraign 
Our most disloyal lady, for, as she hath 
Been publicly accused, so shall she have 



40 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

A just and open trial. While she lives 

My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me. 

And think upon my bidding. [Exeunt 



ACT III 

Scene I — A sea^port in Sicilia 
Enter Cleomenes and Dion 

Cleo, The climate's delicate, the air most sweet, 
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing 
The common praise it bears. 

Dion, I shall report, 

For most it caught me, the celestial habits, 
Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence 
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice! 
How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly 
It was i' the offering! 

Cleo. But of all, the burst 

And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle. 
Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense, lo 

That I was nothing. 

Dion. If the event o' the journey 

Prove as successful to the queen, — O be 't so ! — 
As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy. 
The time is worth the use on 't. 

Cleo, Great Apollo 

Turn all to the best ! These proclamations. 
So forcing faults upon Hermione, 
I little like. 

Dion. The violent carriage of it 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 41 

Will clear or end the business: when the oracle. 
Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up. 
Shall the contents discover, something rare 20 

Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh 

horses ! 
And gracious be the issue! [Exeunt. 

Scene II — A court of Justice 
Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers 

Leon. This sessions, to our great grief we pro- 
nounce. 
Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried 
The daughter of a king, our wife, and one 
Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd 
Of being tyrannous, since we so openly 
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course. 
Even to the guilt or the purgation. 
Produce the prisoner. 

Off, It is his highness' pleasure that the queen 
Appear in person here in court. Silence! 10 

Enter Hermione guarded; Paulina and Ladies attending 

Leon. Read the indictment. 

Off, [Reads] Hermione, queen to the worthy 
Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and 
arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery 
with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and conspiring 
with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign 
lord the king, thy royal husband: the pretence 
whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, 



42 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance «o 
of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for 
their better safety, to fly away by night. 

Her, Since what I am to say must be but that 
Which contradicts my accusation and 
The testimony on my part no other 
But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me 
To say "not guilty:" mine integrity 
Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it. 
Be so received. But thus: if powers divine 
Behold our human actions, as they do, so . 

I doubt not then but innocence shall make 
False accusation blush and tyranny 
Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know. 
Who least will seem to do so, my past life 
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, 
As I am now unhappy; which is more 
Than history can pattern, though devised 
And play'd to take spectators. For behold me 
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe 
A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, 40 
The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing 
To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore 
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it 
As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour, 
'T is a derivative from me to mine. 
And only that I stand for. I appeal 
To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes 
Came to your court, how I was in your grace. 
How merited to be so; since he came. 
With what encounter so uncurrent I 50 

Have strain'd to appear thus: if one jot beyond ^ 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 43 

The bound of honour, or in act or will 
That way inclining, hardened be the hearts 
Of all that hear me, and my nearest of kin 
Cry fie upon my grave! 

Leon. I ne'er heard yet 

That any of these bolder vices wanted 
Less impudence to gainsay what they did 
Than to perform it first. 

Her, That's true enough; 

Though 't is a saying, sir, not due to me. 

Leon. You will not own it. 

Her. More than mistress of oo 

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not 
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, 
With whom I am accused, I do confess 
I loved him as in honour he required. 
With such a kind of love as might become 
A lady like me, with a love even such, 
So and no other, as yourself commanded: 
Which not to have done I think had been in me 
Both disobedience and ingratitude 
To you and toward your friend, whose love had 

spoke, 70 

Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely 
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, 
I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd 
For me to try how: all I know of it 
Is that Camillo was an honest man; 
And why he left your court, the gods themselves, 
Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. 

Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know 
What you have underta'en to do in 's absence. 



44, THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

Her, Sir, so 

You speak a language that I understand not: 
My life stands in the level of your dreams. 
Which I '11 lay down. 

Leon, Your actions are my dreams; 

You had a bastard by Polixenes, 
And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame, — 
Those of your fact are so — so past all truth: 
Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as 
Thy brat hath been cast out, Hke to itseK, 
No father owning it, — which is, indeed. 
More criminal in thee than it, — so thou 90 

Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage 
Look for no less than death. 

Her, Sir, spare your threats : 

The bug which you would fright me with I seek. 
To me can life be no commodity: 
The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, 
I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, 
But know not how it went. My second joy 
And first-fruits of my body, from his presence 
I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort, 
Starr'd must unluckily, is from my breast, 100 

The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth, 
Haled out to murder: myseK on every post 
Proclaim'd a strumpet: with immodest hatred 
The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs 
To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried 
Here to this place, i ' the open air, before 
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege. 
Tell me what blessings I have here alive. 
That I should fear to die.^^ Therefore proceed. 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 45 

But yet hear this; mistake me not; no life, no 

I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour. 

Which I would free, if I shall be condemu'd 

Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else 

But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 

'T is rigour and not law. Your honours all, 

I do refer me to the oracle : 

Apollo be my judge! 

First Lord. This your request ' 

Is altogether just: therefore bring forth. 
And in Apollo's name, his oracle. 

[Exeunt certain Officers. 

Her. The Emperor of Russia was my father: 120 
O that he were alive, and here beholding 
His daughter's trial! that he did but see 
The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes 
Of pity, not revenge! 

Re-enter Officers, rvitk Cleomenes and Dion 

Of. You here shall swear upon this sword of 
justice. 
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have 
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have 

brought 
This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd 
Of great Apollo's priest and that since then 
You have not dared to break the holy seal 130 

Nor read the secrets in't. 

Cleo.y Dion. All this we swear. 

Leon. Break up the seals and read. 

Of. [Reads] Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blame- 
less; Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous 



46 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

tyrant; his innocent babe truly begotten; and the 
king shall live without an heir, if that which is lost 
be not found. 

Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo! 

Her. Praised! 

Leon. Hast thou read truth? 

Off. Ay, my lord; even so 

As it is here set down. i40 

Leon. There is no truth at all i' the oracle: 
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood. 

Enter Servant 

Serv. My lord the king, the king! 

Leon. What is the business? 

Serv. O sir, I shall be hated to report it! 
The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear 
Of the queen's speed, is gone. 

Leon. How! gone! 

Serv. Is dead. 

Leon. Apollo's angry; and the heavens them- 
selves 
Do strike at my injustice. [Hermione swoons.] 
How now there! 

Paul. This news is mortal to the queen: look 
down 
And see what death is doing. 

Leon. Take her hence: iso 

Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover: 
I have too much believed mine own suspicion: 
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her 
Some remedies for life. 

[Exeunt Paulina and Ladies vrith Hermione* 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 47 

Apollo, pardon 
My great prof aneness 'gainst thine oracle ! 
I '11 reconcile me to Polixenes, 
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo, 
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy; ' 
For, being transported by my jealousies 
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose i60 

Camillo for the minister to poison 
My friend Polixenes : which had been done,'' 
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied 
My swift command, though I with death and with , 
Reward did threaten and encourage him. 
Not doing 't and being done : he, most humane 
And fiU'd with honour, to my kingly guest 
Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here. 
Which you knew great, and to the hazard 
Of all incertainties himself commended, 170 

No richer than his honour: how he glisters 
Thorough my rust ! and how his piety 
Does my deeds make the blacker! 

Re-enter Paulina 

Paul, Woe the while! 

O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, 
Break too! 

First Lord. What fit is this, good lady? 

PauL What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? 
What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling? 
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture 
Must I receive, whose every word deserves 
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny iso 

Together working with thy jealousies, 



48 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle 

For girls of nine, O, think what they have done 

And then run mad indeed, stark mad ! for all 

Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. 

That thou betray 'dst Polixenes, 't was nothing; 

That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant 

And damnable ingrateful: nor was 't much, 

Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour. 

To have him kill a king; poor trespasses, 190 

More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon 

The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter 

To be or none or little; though a devil 

Would have shed water out of fire ere done 't: 

Nor is 't directly laid to thee, the death 

Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts. 

Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart 

That could conceive a gross and foolish sire 

Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no. 

Laid to thy answer: but the last, — O lords, 200 

When I have said, cry "woe!" — the queen, the 

queen. 
The sweet'st, dear'st creature 's dead, and venge- 
ance for 't 
Not dropp'd down yet. 

First Lord. The higher powers forbid! 

Paul, I say she 's dead; I '11 swear 't. If word 
nor oath 
Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring 
Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye. 
Heat outwardly or breath within, I '11 serve you 
As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant! 
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 49 

Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee 210 

To nothing but despair. A thousand knees 

Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, 

Upon a barren mountain, and still winter 

In storm perpetual, could not move the gods 

To look that way thou wert. 

Leon. Go on, go on: 

Thou canst not speak too much: I have deserved 
All tongues to talk their bitterest. 

First Lord, Say no more: 

Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault 
I ' the boldness of your speech. 

Paul, I am sorry for't: 

All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, 220 
I do repent. Alas! I have show'd too much 
The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd 
To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past 

help 
Should be past grief: do not receive affliction 
At my petition; I beseech you, rather 
Let me be punish 'd, that have minded you 
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege. 
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman: 
The love I bore your queen — lo, fool again! — 
I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children; 230 
I '11 not remember you of my own lord. 
Who is lost too : take your patience to you. 
And I '11 say nothing. 

Leon, Thou didst speak but well 

When most the truth; which I receive much better 
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me 
To the dead bodies of my queen and son: 



50 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

One grave shall be for both : upon them shall 

The causes of their death appear, unto 

Our shame perpetual. Once a day I '11 visit 

The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there 240 

Shall be my recreation: so long as nature 

Will bear up with this exercise, so long 

I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me 

Unto these sorrows. [Exeunt 

Scene III — Bohemia. A desert country near the sea 
Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner 

Ant. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath 
touch'd upon 
The deserts of Bohemia? 

Mar, Ay, my lord; and fear 

We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly 
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience. 
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry 
And frown upon 's. 

Ant, Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard; 
Look to thy bark: I'll not be long before 
I call upon thee. 

Mar. Make your best haste, and go not 10 

Too far i' the land: 'tis like to be loud weather; 
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures 
Of prey that keep upon 't. 

Ant. Go thou away: 

I '11 follow instantly. 

Mar. I am glad at heart 

To be so rid o ' the business. [Exit. 

Ant. Come, poor babe: 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 51 

I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' the 

dead 
May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother 
Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream 
So like a waking. To me comes a creature, 
Sometimes her head on one side, some another; 20 

I never saw a vessel of like sorrow. 
So fiird and so becoming: in pure white robes. 
Like very sanctity, she did approach 
My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me, 
And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes 
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon 
Did this break her from: "Good Antigonus, 
Since fate, against thy better disposition. 
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out 
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, so 

Places remote enough are in Bohemia, 
There weep and leave it crying; and, for the babe 
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita, 
I prithee, call't. For this ungentle business, 
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see 
Thy wife Paulina more." And so, with shrieks, 
She melted into air. Affrighted much, 
I did in time collect myself and thought 
This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys: 
Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously, 40 

I will be squared by this. I do believe 
Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that 
Appollo would, this being indeed the issue 
Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid, ^ 

Either for life or death, upon the earth 
Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well! 



52 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

There He, and there thy character: there these; 
Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, 

pretty, 
And still rest thine. The storm begins: poor 

wretch. 
That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed so 

To loss and what may follow ! Weep I cannot, 
But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am I 
To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell! 
The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have 
A lullaby too rough: I never saw 
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour ! 
Well may I get aboard ! This is the chase : 
I am gone for ever. [Exit, pursued by a bear. 

Enter a Shepherd 

Shep. I would there were no age between sixteen 
and three-and-twenty^ or that youth would sleep eo 
out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but 
getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, 
stealing, fighting — Hark you now! Would any but 
these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty 
hunt this weather.^ They have scared away two of 
my best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find 
than the master: if any where I have them, 't is by 
the sea-side, browsing of ivy. Good luck, an 't be 
thy will! what have we here? Mercy on 's, a barne; 70 
a very pretty barne! A boy or a child, I wonder .^^ 
A pretty one; a very pretty one: sure, some 'scape: 
though I am not bookish, yet I can read waiting- 
gentlewoman in the 'scape. This has been some 
stair-work, some trunk-work, some behind-door- 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 53 

work: they were warmer that got this than the 
poor thing is here. I '11 take it up for pity: yet 
I '11 tarry till my son come; he hallooed but even 
now. Whoa, ho, hoa! 

Enter Clown 

Clo. Hilloa, loa! so 

Shep. What, art so near? If thou 'It see a thing 
to talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come 
hither. What ailest thou, man? 

Clo. I have seen two such sights, by sea and by 
land! but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now 
the sky: betwixt the firmament and it you cannot 
thrust a bodkin's point. 

Shep, Why, boy, how is it? 

Clo. I would you did but see how it chafes, how 
it rages, how it takes up the shore ! but that 's not go 
to the point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor 
souls! sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em; 
now the ship boring the moon with her main-mast, 
and anon swallowed with yest and froth, as you 'Id 
thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the 
land-service, to see how the bear tore out his 
shoulder-bone; how he cried to me for help and 
said his name was Antigonus, a nobleman. But 
to make an end of the ship, to see how the sea 
flap-dragoned it: but, first, how the poor souls loo 
roared, and the sea mocked them; and how the 
poor gentleman roared and the bear mocked him, 
both roaring louder than the sea or weather. 

Shep. Name of mercy, when was this, boy? 

Clo. Now, now: I have not winked since I 



54. THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under 
water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman: 
he 's at it now. 

Shep, Would I had been by, to have helped no 
the old man! 

Clo. I would you had been by the ship side, to 
have helped her: there your charity would have 
lacked footing. 

Shep, Hea\^ matters! heavy matters! but look 
thee here, boy. Now bless thyself: thou mettest 
with things dying, I with things new-bom. Here 's 
a sight for thee; look thee, a bearing-cloth for a 
squire's child! look thee here; take up, take up, 
boy; open it. So, let 's see: it was told me I should 120 
be rich by the fairies. This is some changeling: 
open 't. What 's within, boy.^^ 

Clo, You 're a made old man: if the sins of 
your youth are forgiven you, you 're well to live. 
Gold! all gold! 

Shep, This is fairy gold, boy, and 't will prove 
so: up with 't, keep it close: home, home, the next 
way. We are lucky, boy; and to be so still re- 
quires nothing but secrecy. Let my sheep go: 130 
come, good boy, the next way home. 

Clo. Go you the next way with your findings. 
I'll go see if the bear be gone from the gentle- 
man and how much he hath eaten: they are never 
curst but when they are hungry: if there be any 
of him left, I '11 bury it. 

Shep, That 's a good deed. If thou mayest 
discern by that which is left of him what he is, 
fetch me to the sight of him. 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 55 

Clo, Marry, will I; and you shall help to put uo 
him i' the ground. 

Shep, 'T is a lucky day, boy, and we '11 do good 
deeds on 't. [Exeunt. 



ACT IV 

Scene I — Efiter Time^ the Chorus 

Time, I, that please some, try all, both joy and 
terror 
Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error. 
Now take upon me, in the name of Time, 
To use my wings. Impute it not a crime 
To me or my swift passage, that I slide 

'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried 
Of that wide gap, since it is in my power 

To overthrow law and in one self -born hour 

To plant and overwhelm custom. Let me pass 

The same I am, ere ancient'st order was lo 

Or what is now received: I witness to 

The times that brought them in; so shall I do 

To the freshest things now reigning and make stale 

The glistering of this present, as my tale 

Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing, 

1 turn my glass and give my scene such growing 
As you had slept between : Leontes leaving. 
The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving 
That he shuts up himself, imagine me. 

Gentle spectators, that I now may be 20 

In fair Bohemia; and remember well, 

I mentioned a son o' the king's, which Florizel 



56 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

I now name to you; and with speed so pace 

To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace 

Equal with wondering: what of her ensues 

I list not prophesy; but let Time's news 

Be known when 't is brought forth. A shepherd's 

daughter, 
And what to her adheres, which follows after. 
Is the argurdent of Time. Of this allow, 
If ever you have spent time worse ere now; 30 

If never, yet that Time himself doth say 
He wishes earnestly you never may. [Exit, 

Scene II — Bohemia, The palace of Polixenes 
Enter Polixenes and Camillo 

Pol. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more im- 
portimate: 'tis a sickness denying thee any thing; 
a death to grant this. 

Cam. It is fifteen years since I saw my country: 
though I have for the most part been aired abroad, 
I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the peni- 
tent king, my master, hath sent for me; to whose 
feeling sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween 
to think so, which is another spur to my departure. 10 

Pol. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out 
the rest of thy services by leaving me now: the need 
I have of thee thine own goodness hath made; better 
not to have had thee than thus to want thee: thou, 
having made me businesses which none without thee 
can sujBEiciently manage, must either stay to execute 
them thyself or take away with thee the very ser- 
vices thou hast done; which if I have not enough 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 57 

considered, as too much I cannot, to be more 20 
thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit 
therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal coun- 
try, Sicilia, prithee speak no more; whose very nam- 
ing punishes me with the remembrance of that peni- 
tent, as thou callest him, and reconciled king, my 
brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and 
children are even now to be afresh lamented. Say 
to me, when sawest thou the Prince Florizel, my 
son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not so 
being gracious, than they are in losing them when 
they have approved their virtues. 

Cam, Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. 
What his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: 
but I have missingly noted, he is of late much re- 
tired from court and is less frequent to his princely 
exercises than formerly he hath appeared. 

Pol. I have considered so much, Camillo, and 
with some care; so far that I have eyes under my 40 
service which look upon his removedness; from 
whom I have this intelligence, that he is seldom 
from the house of a most homely shepherd; a man, 
they say, that from very nothing, and beyond the 
imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an un- 
speakable estate. 

Cam, I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath 
a daughter of most rare note: the report of her is 
extended more than can be thought to begin from 
such a cottage. 50 

Pol. That 's likewise part of my intelligence; but, 
I fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou 
shalt accompany us to the place; where we will. 



5S THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

not appearing what we are, have some question with 
the shepherd; from whose simpHcity I think it not 
uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither. 
Prithee, be my present partner in this business, and 
lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia. 

Cam, I willingly obey your command. eo 

PoL My best Camillo! We must disguise our- 
selves. [Exeunt. 

Scene III — A road near the Shepherd's cottage 
Enter Autolycus, singing 

When daffodils begin to peer. 

With heigh ! the doxy over the dale, 
Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; 

For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. 

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge, 

W^ith heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! 

Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; 
For a quart of ale is a dish for a king. 

The lark, that tirra-lyra chants, 

W'ith heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay, lo 
Are summer songs for me and my aunts, 

W^hile we lie tumbling in the hay. 

I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore 
three-pile; but now I am out of service: 

But shall I go mourn for that, my dear? 
The pale moon shines by night: 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 59 

And when I wander here and there, 
I then do most go right. 

If tinkers may have leave to live, 

And bear the sow-skin budget, 20 

Then my account I well may give. 

And in the stocks avouch it. 

My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to 
lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus; who 
being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was like- 
wise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With 
die and drab I purchased this caparison, and my 
revenue is the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are 
too powerful on the highway: beating and hanging 
are terrors to me: for the life to come, I sleep out so 
the thought of it. A prize! a prize! 

Enter Clown 

Clo, Let me see: every 'leven wether tods; 
every tod yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hun- 
dred shorn, what comes the wool to? 

Aut, [Aside] If the springe hold, the cock 's 
mine. 

Clo, I cannot do 't without counters. Let me 
see; what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? 
Three pound of sugar, five pound of currants, rice, — 40 
what will this sister of mine do with rice? But my 
father hath made her mistress of the feast, and she 
lays it on. She hath made me four and twenty 
nosegays for the shearers, three-man-song-men all, 
and very good ones; but they are most of them 



60 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

means and bases; but one puritan amongst them, 
and he sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have 
saffron to colour the warden pies; mace; dates? — 
none, that's out of my note; nutmegs, seven; a race 50 
or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pound of 
prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun. 

Aut, O that ever I was born! 

[Grovelling on the ground, 

Clo. T the name of me — 

Aut. O, help me, help me! pluck but off these 
rags; and then, death, death! 

Clo. Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more 
rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off. 

Aut. O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends 
me more than the stripes I have received, which are eo 
mighty ones and milUons. 

Clo. Alas, poor man! a million of beating may 
come to a great matter. 

Aut. I am robbed, sir, and beaten; my money 
and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable 
things put upon me. 

Clo. What, by a horseman, or a footman? 

Aut. A footman, sweet sir, a footman. 

Clo. Indeed, he should be a footman by the 
garments he has left with thee: if this be a horse- 70 
man's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend 
me thy hand, I '11 help thee: come, lend me thy 
hand. 

Aut. O, good sir, tenderly, O! 

Clo. Alas, poor soul! 

Aut. O, good sir, softly, good sir! I fear, sir, 
my shoulder-blade is out. 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 6l 

Clo, How now! canst stand? 

Aut. [Picking his ^pocket] Softly, dear sir; good 
sir, softly. You ha' done me a charitable office. so 

Clo. Dost lack any money? I have a little 
money for thee. 

Aut. No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir: 
I have a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile 
hence, unto whom I was going; I shall there have 
money, or any thing I want: offer me no money, I 
pray you; that kills my heart. 

Clo. What manner of fellow was he that robbed 
you? 90 

Aut A fellow, sir, that I have known to go 
about with troll-my-dames : I knew him once a 
servant of the prince: I cannot tell, good sir, for 
which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly 
whipped out of the court. 

Clo. His vices, you would say; there 's no 
virtue whipped out of the court: they cherish it 
to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but 
abide. 

Aut. Vices, I would say, sir. I know this manioo 
well: he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a pro- 
cess-server, a bailiff; then he compassed a motion 
of the Prodigal Son, and married a tinker's wife 
within a mile where my land and living lies; and, 
having flown over many knavish professions, he 
settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus. 

Clo. Out upon him! prig, for my life, prig: he 
haunts wakes, fairs and bear-baitings. 

Aut. Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the rogue no 
that put me into this apparel. 



62 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia: 
if you had but looked big and spit at him, he 'Id 
have run. 

Aut. I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter: 
I am false of heart that way; and that he knew, I 
warrant him. 

Clo. How do you now? 

Aut. Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can 
stand and walk: I will even take my leave of you, 120 
and pace softly towards my kinsman's. 

Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way? 

Aut. No, good-faced sir; no, sw^eet sir. 

Clo. Then fare thee well: I must go buy spices 
for our sheep-shearing. 

Aut. Prosper you, sweet sir! [Exit Clown,] 
Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your 
spice. I '11 be with you at your sheep-shearing 
too: if I make not this cheat bring out another 
and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled iso 
and my name put in the book of virtue ! 

[Sings] Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way. 
And merrily hent the stile-a: 
A merry heart goes all the day, 

Your sad tires in a mile-a. [Exit. 

Scene IV — The Shepherd's cottage 
Enter Florizel and Perdita 

Flo. These your unusual weeds to each part of you 
Do give a life : no shepherdess, but Flora 
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing 
Is as a meeting of the petty gods, 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 63 

And you the queen on 't. 

Per. Sir, my gracious lord. 

To chide at your extremes it not becomes me: 
O, pardon, that I name them ! Your high self. 
The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured 
With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid. 
Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts lo 
In every mess have folly and the feeders 
Digest it with a custom, I should blush 
To see you so attired, sworn, I think, 
To show myself a glass. 

Flo. I bless the time 

When my good falcon made her flight across 
Thy father's ground. 

Per. Now Jove afford you cause! 

To me the difference forges dread; your greatness 
Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble 
To think your father, by some accident. 
Should pass this way as you did: O, the Fates! 20 

How would he look, to see his work so noble 
Vilely bound up? What would he say.f^ Or how 
Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold 
The sternness of his presence? 

Flo. Apprehend 

Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves. 
Humbling their deities to love, have taken 
The shapes of beasts upon them : Jupiter 
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune 
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god. 
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, so 

As I seem now. Their transformations 
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer, 



64 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires 
Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts 
Burn hotter than my faith. 

Per, O, but, sir, 

Your resolution cannot hold, when 't is 
Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king: 
One of these two must be necessities. 
Which then will speak, that you must change this 

purpose, 
Or I my life. 

Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, 40 

With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not 
The mirth o' the feast. Or I '11 be thine, my fair, 
Or not my father's. For I cannot be 
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if 
I be not thine. To this I am most constant. 
Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle; 
Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing 
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming: 
Lift up your countenance, as it were the day 
Of celebration of that nuptial which so 

We two have sworn shall come. 

Per. O lady Fortune, 

Stand you auspicious! 

Flo. See, your guests approach: 

Address yourself to entertain them sprightly. 
And let's be red with mirth. 

Enter Shepherd, Clown, Mopsa, Dorcas, and others, with 
PoLiXENES and Camillo disguised 

Shep. Fie, daughter ! when my old wife lived, upon 
This day she was both pantler, butler, cook, 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 65 

Both dame and servant; welcomed all, served all; 

Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here, 

At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle; 

On his shoulder, and his; her face o' fire eo 

With labour and the thing she took to quench it. 

She would to each one sip. You are retired. 

As if you were a feasted one and not 

The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid 

These unknown friends to's welcome; for it is 

A way to make us better friends, more known. 

Come, quench your blushes and present yourself 

That which you are, mistress o' the feast: come on, 

And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing. 

As your good flock shall prosper. 

Per, [To PoL] Sir, welcome: 70 

It is my father's will I should take on me 
The hostess-ship o' the day. [To Cam,] You 're 

welcome, sir. 
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs. 
For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep 
Seeming and savour all the winter long: 
Grace and remembrance be to you both, 
And welcome to our shearing! 

Pol. Shepherdess, — 

A fair one are you — well you fit our ages 
With flowers of winter. 

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient. 

Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth so 

Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season 
Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors, 
Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind 
Our rustic garden 's barren; and I care not 



66 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

To get slips of them. 

Pol, Wherefore, gentle maiden. 

Do you neglect them? 

Per, For I have heard it said 

There is an art which in their piedness shares 
With great creating nature. 

Pol. Say there be; 

Yet nature is made better by no mean 
But nature makes that mean: so, over that art 90 

Which you say adds to nature, is an art 
That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry . 
A gentler scion to the wildest stock. 
And make conceive a bark of baser kind 
By bud of nobler race : this is an art 
Which does mend nature, change it rather, but 
The art itself is nature. 

Per. So it is. 

Pol, Then make your garden rich in gillyvors. 
And do not call them bastards. 

Per. I'll not put 

The dibble in earth to set one slip of them; 100 

No more than were I painted I would wish 
This youth should say 't were well and only therefore 
Desire to breed by me. Here 's flowers for you; 
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; 
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun 
And with him rises weeping: these are flowers 
Of middle summer, and I think they are given 
To men of middle age. You're very welcome. 

Cam, I should leave grazing, were I of your flock. 
And only live by gazing. 

Per. Out, alas! 110 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 67 

You 'Id be so lean, that blasts of January 

Would blow you through and through. Now, my 

fair'st friend, 
I would I had some flowers o ' the spring that might 
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours. 
That wear upon your virgin branches yet 
Your maidenheads growing: O Proserpina, 
For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall 
From Dis's waggon! daffodils. 
That come before the swallow dares, and take 
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, 120 

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes 
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses. 
That die unmarried, ere they can behold 
Bright Phoebus in his strength — a malady 
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and 
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds. 
The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack, \ 
To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend, 
To strew him o'er and o'er! 
. Flo. Wliat, like a corse ? 

Per, No, like a bank for love to lie and play on; 110 
Not like a corse; or if, not to be buried. 
But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your 

flowers: 
Methinks I play as I have seen them do 
In Whitsun pastorals: sure this robe of mine 
Does change my disposition. 

Flo, What you do 

Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, 
I 'Id have you do it ever: when you sing, 
I 'Id have you buy and sell so, so give alms. 



6s THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs, 

To sing them too: when you do dance, I wishuo 

you 
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do 
Nothing but that; move still, still so. 
And own no other function: each your doing, 
So singular in each particular, 
Crowns what you are doing in the present deed, 
That all your acts are queens. 

Per. O Doricles, 

Your praises are too large: but that your youth. 
And the true blood which peepeth fairly through' t, 
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd. 
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, 150 

You woo'd me the false way. 

Flo. I think you have 

As httle skill to fear as I have purpose 
To put you to 't. But come; our dance, I pray: 
Your hand, my Perdita : so turtles pair. 
That never mean to part. 

Per. I'll swear for 'em. 

Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever 
Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems 
But smacks of something greater than herself, 
Too noble for this place. 

Cam. He tells her something 

That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she isieo 
The queen of curds and cream. 

Clo. Come on, strike up! 

Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress : marry, garlic, 
To mend her kissing with! 

Mop. Now, in good time! 



Scene Four] THE WINTER^S TALE 69 

Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our 
manners. 
Come, strike up ! 

[Music, Here a dance of Shepherds 
and Shepherdesses. 

Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this 
Which dances with your daughter? 

Shep. They call him Doricles; and boasts himself 
To have a worthy feeding : but I have it 
Upon his own report and I believe it; • 170 

He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter: 
I think so too; for never gazed the moon 
Upon the water as he '11 stand and read 
As 'twere my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain, 
I think there is not half a kiss to choose 
Who loves another best. 

Pol. She dances featly. 

Shep. So she does any thing; though I report 
it. 
That should be silent: if young Doricles 
Do light upon her, she shall bring him that 
Which he not dreams of. I80 

Enter Servant 

Serv. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar 
at the door, you would never dance again after a 
tabor and pipe; no, the bagpipe could not move 
you: he sings several tunes faster than you'll tell 
money; he utters them as he had eaten ballads 
and all men's ears grew to his tunes. 

Clo. He could never come better; he shall 
come in. I love a ballad but even too well, if it 



70 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

be doleful matter merrily set down, or a very- 
pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably. 190 

Serv, He hath songs for man or woman, of all 
sizes; no milliner can so fit his customers with 
gloves: he has the prettiest love-songs for maids; so 
without bawdry, which is strange; with such deli- 
cate burthens of dildos and fadings, ''jump her and 
thump her; " and where some stretch-mouthed rascal 
would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul 
gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer 
"Whoop, do me no harm, good man;" puts him off, 
slights him, with "Whoop, do me no harm, good 200 
man." 

Pol. This is a brave fellow. 

Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable 
conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares .'^ 

Serv, He hath ribbons of all the colours i' 
the rainbow; points more than all the lawyers in 
Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come 
to him by the gross: inkles, caddisses, cambrics, 
lawns: why, he sings 'em over as they were gods 
or goddesses; you would think a smock were a she- 210 
angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and the 
work about the square on 't. 

Clo, Prithee bring him in; and let him ap- 
proach singing. 

Per. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous 
words in' s tunes. [Exit Servant, 

Clo, You have of these pedlars, that have more 
in them than you 'Id think, sister. 

Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think. 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 71 

Enter Autolycus^ singing 

Lawn as white as driven snow; 220 

Cyprus black as e'er was crow; 

Gloves as sweet as damask roses; 

Masks for faces and for noses; 

Bugle bracelet, necklace amber, 

Perfume for a lady's chamber; 

Golden quoifs and stomachers, 

For my lads to give their dears: 

Pins and poking-sticks of steel, 

What maids lack from head to heel: 

Come buy of me, come; come buy, come 
buy; 230 

Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry: 

Come buy. 
Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou 
shouldst take no money of me; but being en- 
thralled as I am, it will also be the bondage of 
certain ribbons and gloves. 

Mo'po I was promised them against the feast; 
but they come not too late now. 

Dor, He hath promised you more than that, or 
there be liars. 240 

Mop. He hath paid you all he promised you: 
may be, he has paid you more, which will shame 
you to give him again. 

Clo, Is there no manners left among maids? 
will they wear their plackets where they should 
bear their faces? Is there not milking-time, when 
you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle off 
these secrets, but you must bo titllc-tiiitlinij^ before 



72 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

all our guests? 'tis well they are whispering -.250 
clamour your tongues, and not a word more. 

Mop, I have done. Come, you promised me a 
tawdry-lace and a pair of sweet gloves. 

Clo. Have I not told thee how I was cozened 
by the way and lost all my money? 

Aut. And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; 
therefore it behoves men to be wary. 

Clo. Fear not thou, man, thou shalt lose nothing 
here. 

Aut, I hope so, sir; for I have about me manyaeo 
parcels of charge. 

Clo. What hast here? ballads? 

Mop. Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in 
print o' life, for then we are sure they are true. 

Aut. Here 's one to a very doleful tune, how 
a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty 
money-bags at a burthen and how she longed to 
eat adders' heads and toads carbonadoed. 

Mop. Is it true, think you? 

Aut. Very true, and but a month old. 270 

Dor. Bless me from marrj^ing a usurer! 

Aut. Here 's the midwife's name to 't, one Mis- 
tress Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives that 
were present. Why should I carry lies abroad? 

Mop. Pray you now, buy it. 

Clo. Come on, lay it by: and let 's first see moe 
ballads; we '11 buy the other things anon. 

Aut. Here 's another ballad of a fish, that 
appeared upon the coast on W^ednesday the four-280 
score of April, forty thousand fathom above water, 
and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 73 

maids: it was thought she was a woman and was 
turned into a cold fish for she would not exchange 
flesh with one that loved her: the ballad is very- 
pitiful and as true. 

Dor, Is it true too, think you? 

Aut, Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses 
more than my pack will hold. 

Clo. Lay it by too: another. 290 

AuL This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one. 

MoTp, Let 's have some merry ones. 

Aut, Why, this is a passing merry one and goes 
to the tune of " Two maids wooing a man: " there's 
scarce a maid westward but she sings it; 't is in 
request, I can tell you. 

Mop, We can both sing it: if thou 'It bear a 
part, thou shalt hear: 't is in three parts. 

Dor. We had the tune on 't a month ago. soo 

Aut, I can bear my part; you must know 't is 
my occupation; have at it with you. 

Song 

A. Get you hence, for I must go 

Where it fits not you to know. 
D, Whither? M. O, whither? D. Whither?^ 
M, It becomes thy oath full well. 

Thou to me thy secrets tell. 
D, Me too, let me go thither. 
M, Or thou goest to the grange or mill. 
D, If to either, thou dost ill. sio 

A. Neither. D. What, neither? A, Neither. 
D, Thou hast sworn my love to be. 
M, Thou hast sworn it more to me: 

Then whither goest? say, whither? | 



74 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Clo, We '11 have this song out anon by our- 
selves: my father and the gentlemen are in sad 
talk, and we '11 not trouble them. Come, bring 
away thy pack after me. Wenches, I '11 buy for 
you both. Pedlar, let 's have the first choice. 
Follow me, girls. [Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa, 320 

Aut. And you shall pay well for 'em. 

[Follows singing. 
Will you buy any tape, 
Or lace for your cape. 
My dainty duck, my dear-a? 
Any silk, any thread. 
Any toys for your head. 
Of the new'st and finest, finest wear-a? 
Come to the pedlar; 
Money 's a medler. 
That doth utter all men's ware-a. [Exit, sso 

Re-enter Servant 

Serv. Master, there is three carters, three shep- 
herds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that 
have made themselves all men of hair, they call 
themselves Saltiers, and they have a dance which 
the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because 
they are not in't; but they themselves are o' the 
mind, if it be not too rough for some that know 
little but bowling, it will please plentifully. 

Shep, Away! we'll none on't: here has been 340 
too much homely foolery already. I know, sir, 
we weary you. 

Pol. You weary those that refresh us: pray, 
let 's see these four threes of herdsmen. 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 75 

Serv. One three of them, by their own report, } 
sir, hath danced before the king; and not the 
worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and a 
half by the squier. 

Shep. Leave your prating: since these good men 
are pleased, let them come in; but quickly now. 350 

Serv. Why, they stay at door, sir. [Exit. 

Here a dance of twelve Satyrs * 

Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that here- 
after. 
[To Cam,] Is it not too far gone.^ 'T is time to 

part them. 
He's simple and tells much. [To Flor,] How now, 

fair shepherd! 
Your heart is full of something that does take 
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young 
And handed love as you do, I was wont 
To load my she with knacks: I would have ran- 

sack'd 
The pedlar's silken treasury and have pour'd it seo 
To her acceptance; you have let him go 
And nothing marted with him. If your lass 
Interpretation should abuse and call this 
Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited 
For a reply, at least if you make a care 
Of happy holding her. 

Flo, Old sir, I know 

She prizes not such trifles as these are : 
The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd 
Up in my heart; which I have given already, 
But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life 870 



76 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, 

Hath sometime loved! I take thy hand, this hand, 

As soft as dove's down and as white as it. 

Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow that 's 

bolted 
By the northern blasts twice o'er. 

Pol What follows this? 

How prettily the young swain seems to wash 
The hand was fair before! I have put you out: 
But to your protestation; let me hear 
What you profess. 

Flo, Do, and be witness to 't. 

Pol, And this my neighbour too.^^ 

Flo, And he, and more sso 

Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all: 
That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch, 
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth 
That ever made eye swerve, had force and know- 
ledge 
More than was ever man's, I would not prize them 
Without her love; for her employ them all; 
Commend them and condemn them to her service 
Or to their own perdition. 

Pol, Fairly ofler'd. 

Cam. This shows a sound affection. 

Shep. But, my daughter. 

Say you the like to him? 

Per, I cannot speak 890 

So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better: 
By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out 
The purity of his. 

Shep. Take hands, a bargain! 



ScESfE Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 77 

And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to 't: 
I give my daughter to him, and will make 
Her portion equal his. 

Flo. O, that must be 

I' the virtue of your daughter: one being dead, 
I shall have more than you can dream of yet; 
Enough then for your wonder. But, come on. 
Contract us 'fore these witnesses. 

Shep. Come, your hand; 400 

And, daughter, yours. 

Pol, Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you; 

Have you a father? 

Flo, I have: but what of him? 

Pol. Knows he of this? 

Flo. He neither does nor shall. 

Pol, Methinks a father 
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest 
That best becomes the table. Pray you once more. 
Is not your father grown incapable 
Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid 
With age and altering rheums? can he speak? hear? 
Know man from man? dispute his own estate? 4io 

Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing 
But what he did being childish? 

Flo. No, good sir; 

He has his health and ampler strength indeed 
Than most have of his age. 

Pol. By my white beard. 

You offer him, if this be so, a wrong 
Something unfilial: reason my son 
Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason 
The father, all whose joy is nothing else 



78 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

But fair posterity, should hold some counsel 
In such a business. 

Flo, I yield all this; 420 

But for some other reasons, my grave sir, 
Which 't is not fit you know, I not acquaint 
My father of this business. 

Pol, Let him know 't. 

Flo, He shall not. 

Pol. Prithee, let him. 

Flo. No, he must not. 

Shej). Let him, my son : he shall not need to grieve 
At knowing of thy choice. 

Flo, Come, come, he must not. 

Mark our contract. 

Pol. Mark your divorce, young sir, 

[Discovering himself. 
Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base 
To be acknowledged: thou a sceptre's heir. 
That thus aff ect'st a sheep-hook ! Thou old traitor, 430 
I am sorry that by hanging thee I can 
But shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh piece 
Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know 
The royal fool thou copest with, — 

Shep. O, my heart! 

Pol. I '11 have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, 
and made 
More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy, 
If I may ever know thou dost but sigh 
That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never 
I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from succession; 
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, 440 

Farre than Deucalion oflf: mark thou my words: 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 79 

Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time. 

Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee 

From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment, — 

Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too. 

That makes himself, but for our honour therein. 

Unworthy thee, — if ever henceforth thou 

These rural latches to his entrance open, 

Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, 

I will devise a death as cruel for thee 450 

As thou art tender to 't. [Exit. 

Per. Even here undone! 

I was not much afeard; for once or twice 
I was about to speak and tell him plainly, 
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court 
Hides not his visage from our cottage but 
Looks on alike. Will 't please you, sir, be gone.^ 
I told you what would come of this: beseech 

you, 
Of your own state take care: this dream of mine, — 
Being now awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther, 
But milk my ewes and weep. 46o 

Cam. Why, how now, father! 

Speak ere thou diest. 

Shep. I cannot speak, nor think. 

Nor dare to know that which I know. O sir! 
You have undone a man of fourscore three. 
That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea. 
To die upon the bed my father died. 
To lie close by his honest bones : but now 
Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay 

me 
Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch, 



80 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Foub 

That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst ad- 
venture 
To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone! 470 

If I might die within this hour, I have Hved 
To die when I desire. [Exit. 

Flo, \Miy look you so upon me? 

I am but sorry, not afeard; delay 'd. 
But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am; 
More straining on for plucking back, not following 
My leash unwillingly. 

Cam. Gracious my lord. 

You know your father's temper: at this time 
He will allow no speech, which I do guess 
You do not purpose to him; and as hardly 
Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear: 480 

Then, till the fury of his highness settle, 
Come not before him. 

Flo. I not purpose it. 

I think, Camillo? 

Cam. Even he, my lord. 

Per. How often have I told you 'twould be 
thus! 
How often said, my dignity would last 
But till 't were knowm! 

Flo. It cannot fail but by 

The violation of my faith; and then 
Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together 
And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks: 
From my succession wipe me, father; I 490 

Am heir to my affection. 

Cam. Be advised. 

Flo. I am, and by my fancy: if my reason 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 81 

Will thereto be obedient, I have reason; 

If not, my senses, better pleased with madness, 

Do bid it welcome. 

Cam, This is desperate, sir. 

Flo, So call it: but it does fulfil my vow; 
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, 
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may 
Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or 
The close earth wombs or the profound seas hide 500 
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath 
To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you, 
As you have ever been my father's honoured friend, 
When he shall miss me, — as, in faith, I mean 

not 
To see him any more, — cast your good counsels 
Upon his passion : let myself and fortune 
Tug for the time to come. This you may know 
And so deliver, I am put to sea 
With her whom here I cannot hold on shore; 
And most opportune to our need I have 510 

A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared 
For this design. What course I mean to hold 
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor 
Concern me the reporting. 

Cam, O my lord! 

I would your spirit were easier for advice, 
Or stronger for your need. 

Flo, Hark, Perdita. [Drawing her aside. 

I'll hear you by and by. 

Cam, He's irremovable, 

Resolved for flight. Now were I happy, if 
His going I could frame to serve my turn. 



82 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Save him from danger, do him love and honour, 520 
Purchase the sight again of dear SiciUa 
And that unhappy king, my master, whom 
I so much thirst to see. 

Flo. Now, good Camillo; 

I am so fraught with curious business that 
I leave out ceremony. 

Cam. Sir, I think 

You have heard of my poor services, i' the love 
That I have borne your father .^^ 

Flo. Very nobly 

Have you deserved : it is my father's music 
To speak your deeds, not little of his care 
To have them recompensed as thought on. 530 

Cam. Well, my lord. 

If you may please to think I love the king 
And through him what is nearest to him, which is 
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction: 
If your more ponderous and settled project 
May suffer alteration, on mine honour, 
I '11 point you where you shall have such receiving 
As shall become your highness; where you may 
Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see, 
There's no disjunction to be made, but by — 
As heavens forefend! — your ruin; marry her, 540 

And, with my best endeavours in your absence. 
Your discontenting father strive to qualify 
And bring him up to liking. 

Flo. How, Camillo, 

May this, almost a miracle, be done? 
That I may call thee something more than man 
And after that trust to thee. 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 83 

Cam. Have you thought on 

A place whereto you'll go? 

Flo. Not any yet: 

But as the unthought-on accident is guilty 
To what we wildly do, so we profess 
Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies 550 

Of every wind that blows. 

Cam. Then list to me: 

This follows, if you will not change your purpose 
But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia, 
And there present yourself and your fair princess. 
For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes : 
She shall be habited as it becomes 
The partner of your bed. Methinks I see 
Leontes opening his free arms and weeping 
His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness. 
As 't were i' the father's person; kisses the hands 560 
Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him 
'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one 
He chides to hell and bids the other grow 
Faster than thought of time. 

Flo. Worthy Camillo, 

What colour for my visitation shall I 
Hold up before him? 

Cam. Sent by the king your father 

To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir, 
The manner of your bearing towards him, with 
What you as from your father shall deliver, 
Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down: 570 
The which shall point you forth at every sitting 
What you must say; that he shall not perceive 
But that you have your father's bosom there 



84 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

And speak his very heart. 

Flo, I am bound to you: 

There is some sap in this. 

Cam, A course more promising 

Than a wild dedication of yourselves 
To unpath'd waters, imdream'd shores, most certain 
To miseries enough; no hope to help you, 
But as you shake ofiF one to take another; 
Nothing so certain as your anchors, who 580 

Do their best office, if they can but stay you 
Where you'll be loath to be: besides you know 
Prosperity 's the very bond of love. 
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together 
Affliction alters. 

Per, One of these is true: 

I think affliction may subdue the cheek. 
But not take in the mind. 

Cam, Yea, say you so? 

There shall not at your father's house these seven 

years 
Be born another such. 

Flo, My good Camillo, 

She is as forward of her breeding as 590 

She is i' the rear our birth. 

Cam. I cannot say 't is pity 

She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress 
To most that teach. 

Per, Your pardon, sir; for this 

I'll blush you thanks. 

Flo, My prettiest Perdita! 

But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo, 
Preserver of my father, now of me, 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 85 

The medicine of our house, how shall we do? 
We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son, 
Nor shall appear in Sicilia. 

Cam, My lord. 

Fear none of this : I think you know my fortunes 6oo 
Do all lie there : it shall be so my care 
To have you royally appointed as if 
The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, 
That you may know you shall not want, one word. 

[They talk aside. 

Re-enter Autolycus 

Aut. Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, 
his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman ! I have 
sold all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not 
a ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, 
ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn- 6io 
ring, to keep my pack from fasting: they throng 
who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been 
hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer: 
by which means I saw whose purse was best in 
picture; and what I saw, to my good use I remem- 
bered. My clown, who wants but something to be 
a reasonable man, grew so in love with the wenches' 
song, that he would not stir his pettitoes till he had 
both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the 
herd to me that all their other senses stuck in ears : 620 
you might have pinched a placket, it was senseless; 
't was nothing to geld a codpiece of a purse; I could 
have filed keys off that hung in chains: no hearing, 
no feeling, but my sir's song, and admiring the 
nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy I 



86 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

picked and cut most of their festival purses; and 
had not the old man come in with a whoo-bub 
against his daughter and the king's son and scared 
my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse 
alive in the whole army. eso 

[Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward. 

Cam. Nay, but my letters, by this means being 
there 
So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. 

Flo. And those that you'll procure from King 
Leontes — 

Cam. Shall satisfy your father. 

Per. Happy be you! 

All that you speak shows fair. 

Cam. Who have we here? 

[Seeing Autolycus. 
We *11 make an instrument of this, omit 
Nothing may give us aid. 

Aut. If they have overheard me now, why, 
hanging. 

Cam. How now, good fellow ! why shakest thou so ? 64o 
Fear not, man; here 's no harm intended to thee. 

Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir. 

Cam. Why, be so still; here 's nobody will steal 
that from thee : yet for the outside of thy poverty 
we must make an exchange; therefore disease 
thee instantly, — thou must think there 's a necessity 
in't, — and change garments with this gentleman: 
though the pennyworth on his side be the worst, 
yet hold thee, there 's some boot. eso 

Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir. [Aside] I know ye 
well enough. 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 87 

Cam, Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is 
half flayed already. 

Aut Are you in earnest, sir? [Aside] I smell 
the trick on 't. 

Flo, Dispatch, I prithee. 

Aut. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot 
with conscience take it. 

Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle. 660 

[Florizel and Autolycus exchange gftrments. 
Fortunate mistress, — let my prophecy 
Come home to ye! — you must retire yourself 
Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat 
And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face, , 
Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken 
The truth of your own seeming; that you may — 
For I do fear eyes over — to shipboard 
Get undescried. 

Per. I see the play so lies 

That I must bear a part. 

Cam. No remedy. 

Have you done there? 67o 

Flo. Should I now meet my father, 

He would not call me son. 

Cam. Nay, you shall have no hat. 

[Giving it to Perdita. 
Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend. 

Aut. Adieu, sir. 

Flo. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot! 
Pray you, a word. 

Cam. [Aside] What I do next, shall be to teU the 
king 
Of this escape and whither they are bound; 



88 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail 
To force him after: in whose company 
I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight 
I have a woman's longing. 

Flo, Fortune speed us! eso 

Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side. 

Cam. The swifter speed the better. 

[Exeunt Florizel, Perdita, and Camillo. 

Aut. I understand the business, I hear it: to have 
an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is 
necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite 
also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see 
this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. 
What an exchange had this been without boot! 
What a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the 
gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any 690 
thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece 
of iniquity, stealing away from his father with his 
clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of 
honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not 
do't: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; and 
therein am I constant to my profession. 

Re-enter Clown and Shepherd 

Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain: 
every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hang- 700 
ing, yields a careful man work. 

Clo, See, see; what a man you are now! There 
is no other way but to tell the king she's a change- 
ling and none of your flesh and blood. 

Shep, Nay, but hear me. 

Clo. Nay, but hear me. > 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 89 

Shep. Go to, then. 

(7/o. She being none of your flesh and blood, 
your flesh and blood has not offended the king; 710 
and so your flesh and blood is not to be punished 
by him. Show those things you found about 
her, those secret things, all but what she has with 
her: this being done, let the law go whistle: I 
warrant you. 

Shep. I will tell the king all, every word, yea, 
and his son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no 
honest man, neither to his father nor to me, to go 
about to make me the king's brother-in-law. 720 

Clo. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off 
you could have been to him and then your blood 
had been the dearer by I know how much an ounce. 

Aut. [Aside] Very wisely, puppies ! 

Shep. Well, let us to the king: there is that in 
this fardel will make him scratch his beard. 

Aut [Aside] I know not what impediment this 
complaint may be to the flight of my master. 

Clo. Pray heartily he be at palace. 730 

Aut. [Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, 
I am so sometimes by chance: let me pocket up 
my pedlar's excrement. [Takes off his false beard.] 
How now, rustics! whither are you bound? 

Shep. To the palace, an it like your worship. 

Aut. Your affairs there, what, with whom, the 
condition of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, 
your names, your ages, of what having, breeding, 
and any thing that is fitting to be known, discover. 740 

Clo. We are but plain fellows, sir. 

Aut. A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me 



90 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

have no lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and 
they often give us soldiers the lie : but we pay them 
for it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; there- 
fore they do not give us the lie. 

Clo. Your worship had like to have given us one, 750 
if you had not taken yourself with the manner. 

Shep. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir? 

Aut. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. 
Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfold- 
ings.'^ hath not my gait in it the measure of the 
court? receives not thy nose court-odour from me? 
reflect I not on thy baseness court-contempt? 
Thinkest thou, for that I insinuate, or toaze from 
thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I760 
am courtier cap-a-pe; and one that will either 
push on or pluck back thy business there: where- 
upon I command thee to open thy affair. 

Shep. My business, sir, is to the king. 

Aut. What advocate hast thou to him? 

Shep. I know not, an't like you. 

Clo. Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant: 
say you have none. 

Shep. None, sir ; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. 770 

Aut. How blessed are we that are not simple men ! 
Yet nature might have made me as these are, 
Therefore I will not disdain. 

Clo. This cannot be but a great courtier. 

Shep. His garments are rich, but he wears them 
not handsomely. 

Clo. He seems to be the more noble in being 
fantastical: a great man, I '11 warrant; I know by 
the picking on 's teeth. 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 91 

Aut. The fardel there? what's i' the fardel? 78o 
Wherefore that box? 

Shep. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel 
and box, which none must know but the king; and 
which he shall know within this hour, if I may 
come to the speech of him. 

Aut. Age, thou hast lost thy labour. 

Shep. Why, sir? 

Aut, The king is not at the palace; he is gone 
aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air 
himself: for, if thou beest capable of things 790 
serious, thou must know the king is full of grief. 

Shep. So 't is said, sir; about his son, that should 
have married a shepherd's daughter. 

Aut. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let 
him fly: the curses he shall have, the tortures he 
shall feel, will break the back of man, the heart 
of monster. 

Clo. Think you so, sir? 

Aut. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can 
make heavy and vengeance bitter; but those that 800 
are germane to him, though removed fifty times, 
shall all come under the hangman: which though 
it be great pity, yet it is necessary. An old sheep- 
whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have his 
daughter come into grace! Some say he shall be 
stoned; but that death is too soft for him, say I: 
draw our throne into a sheep-cote! all deaths are 
too few, the sharpest too easy. 

Clo. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, 
an 't like you, sir? sio 

Aut. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; 



92 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

then 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a 
wasp's nest; then stand till he be three quarters and 
a dram dead; then recovered again with aqua-vitae 
or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and 
in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall 
he be set against a brick-wall, the sun looking with 
a southward eye upon him, where he is to behold 
him with flies blown to death. But what talk we 820 
of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be 
smiled at, their offences being so capital? Tell me, 
for you seem to be honest plain men, what you 
have to the king: being something gently con- 
sidered, I'll bring you where he is aboard, tender 
your persons to his presence, whisper him in your 
behalf s; and if it be in man besides the king to effect 
your suits, here is man shall do it. 

Clo. He seems to be of great authority: close 
with him, give him gold; and though authority besso 
a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with 
gold : show the inside of your purse to the outside of 
his hand, and no more ado. Remember "stoned," 
and ''flayed alive." 

Shep, An 't please you, sir, to undertake the 
business for us, here is that gold I have: I '11 make 
it as much more and leave this young man in pawn 
till I bring it you. 

Aut. After I have done what I promised? 

Shep, Ay, sir. 840 

Aut Well, give me the moiety. Are you a 
party in this business? 

Clo, In some sort, sir: but though my case be a 
pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it. 



Scene Four] THE WINTER'S TALE 93 

Aut O, that's the case of the shepherd's son: 
hang him, he '11 be made an example. 

Clo. Comfort, good comfort! We must to the 
king and show our strange sights: he must know 
't is none of your daughter nor my sister; we are 
gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this oldsso 
man does when the business is performed, and re- 
main, as he says, your pawn till it be brought you. 

Aut. I will trust you. Walk before toward the 
sea-side; go on the right hand: I will but look upon 
the hedge and follow you. 

Clo. We are blest in this man, as I may say, even 
blest. 

Shep. Let's before as he bids us: he was pro- 
vided to do us good. [Exeunt Shepherd and Clown, 86o 

Aut, If I had a mind to be honest, I see For- 
tune would not suffer me: she drops booties in 
my mouth. I am courted now with a double occa- 
sion, gold and a means to do the prince my master 
good; which who knows how that may turn back 
to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, 
these blind ones, aboard him: if he think it fit to 
shore them again and that the complaint they 
have to the king concerns him nothing, let him call 
me rogue for being so far oflficious; for I am proof 870 
against that title and what shame else belongs 
to 't. To him will I present them: there may be 
matter in it. [Exit. 



ACT V 
Scene I — A room in Leontes' palace 

Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Pauuna, 
and Servants 

Cleo. Sir, you have done enough, and have 
perform'd 
A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make. 
Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down 
More penitence than done trespass : at the last. 
Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil; 
With them forgive yourself. 

Leon. Whilst I remember 

Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
My blemishes in them, and so still think of 
The wrong I did myself; which was so much, 
That heirless it hath made my kingdom and lo 

Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man 
Bred his hopes out of. 

Paul, True, too true, my lord: 

If, one by one, you wedded all the world. 
Or from the all that are took something good. 
To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd 
Would be unparallel'd. 

Leon. I think so. KilFd! 

She I kill'd! I did so: but thou strikest me 
Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter 
Upon thy tongue as in my thought: now, good now. 
Say so but seldom. 

Cleo. Not at all, good lady: «o 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 95 

You might have spoken a thousand things that 

would 
Have done the time more benefit and graced 
Your kindness better. 

Paul, You are one of those 

Would have him wed again. 

Dion. If you would not so. 

You pity not the state, nor the remembrance 
Of his most sovereign name; consider little 
What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue. 
May drop upon his kingdom and devour 
Incertain lookers on. What were more holy 
Than to rejoice the former queen is well.f^ so 

What holier than, for royalty's repair. 
For present comfort and for future good, 
To bless the bed of majesty again 
With a sweet fellow to 't? 

Paul. There is none worthy. 

Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods 
Will have fulfiU'd their secret purposes; 
For has not the divine Apollo said. 
Is 't not the tenour of his oracle. 
That King Leontes shall not have an heir 
Till his lost child be found? which that it shall, 40 

Is all as monstrous to our human reason 
As my Antigonus to break his grave 
And come again to me; who, on my life. 
Did perish with the infant. 'T is your counsel 
My lord should to the heavens be contrary, 
Oppose against their wills. [To Leontes] Care 

not for issue; 
The crown will find an heir: great Alexander 



96 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

Left his to the worthiest; so his successor 
Was like to be the best. 

Leon, Good Paulina, 

Who hast the memory of Hermione, so 

I know, in honour, O, that ever I 
Had squared me to thy counsel! then, even now, 
I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes. 
Have taken treasure from her lips — 

PauL And left them 

More rich for what they yielded. 

Leon, Thou speak'st truth. 

No more such wives; therefore, no wife: one worse. 
And better used, would make her sainted spirit 
Again possess her corpse, and on this stage, 
(Where we offenders now) appear soul-vex'd. 
And begin, " Why to me?" 

Paul, Had she such power, eo 

She had just cause. 

Leon, She had; and would incense me 

To murder her I married. 

Paul, I should so. 

Were I the ghost that walk'd, I 'Id bid you mark 
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in 't 
You chose her; then I 'Id shriek, that even your ears 
Should rift to hear me; and the words that foUow'd 
Should be "Remember mine." 

Leon, Stars, stars. 

And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife; 
I '11 have no wife, Paulina. 

Paul, Will you swear 

Never to marry but by my free leave? 70 

Leon, Never, Paulina; so be blest my spirit! 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 97 

Paul. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his 
oath. 

Cleo. You tempt him over-much. 

Paul. Unless another. 

As like Hermione as is her picture. 
Affront his eye. 

Cleo. Good madam, — 

Paul. I have done. 

Yet, if my lord will marry, — if you will, sir, 
No remedy, but you will, — give me the office 
To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young 
As was your former; but she shall be such 
As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy so 
To see her in your arms. 

Leon. My true Paulina, 

We shall not marry till thou bid'st us. 

Paul. That 

Shall be when your first queen's again in breath; 
Never till then. 

Enter a Gentleman 

Gent. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel, 
Son of Polixenes, with his princess, she 
The fairest I have yet beheld, desires access 
To your high presence. 

Leon. What with him? he comes not 

Like to his father's greatness : his approach, 
So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us do 

'T is not a visitation framed, but forced 
By need and accident. What train? 

Gent. But few, 

And those but mean. 



98 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

Leon. His princess, say you, with him? 

Gent. Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think. 
That e'er the smi shone bright on. 

Paul. O Hermione, 

As every present time doth boast itseK 
Above a better gone, so must thy grave 
Give way to what 's seen now! Sir, you yourself 
Have said and writ so, but your writing now 
Is colder than that theme, " She had not been, lOO 

Nor was not to be equall'd;" — thus your verse 
Flow'd with her beauty once: 't is shrewdly ebb'd. 
To say you have seen a better. j 

Gent. Pardon, madam: ' 

The one I have almost forgot, — your pardon, — 
The other, when she has obtain'd your eye. 
Will have your tongue too. This is a creature. 
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal 
Of all professors else, make proselytes 
Of who she but bid follow. 

Paul. How! not women? 

Gent. Women will love her, that she is a woman no 
More worth than any man; men, that she is 
The rarest of all women. 

Leon. Go, Cleomenes; 

Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends, 
Bring them to our embracement. Still, 't is strange 
[Exeunt Cleomenes and others. 
He thus should steal upon us. 

Paul. Had our prince. 

Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd 
Well with this lord : there was not full a month 
Between their births. 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 99 

Leon, Prithee, no more; cease; thou know'st 
He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure, 120 

When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches 
Will bring me to consider that which may 
Unfurnish me of reason. They are come. 

Re-enter Cleomenes and others, 7vith ) 
Florizel and Perdita 

Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince; • 

For she did print your royal father off. 

Conceiving you: were I but twenty one, 

Your father's image is so hit in you. 

His very air, that I should call you brother. 

As I did him, and speak of something wildly 

By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome! .'' 130 

And your fair princess, — goddess ! — O, alas ! 

I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth 

Might thus have stood begetting wonder as 

You, gracious couple, do : and then I lost — 

All mine own folly — the society. 

Amity too, of your brave father, whom. 

Though bearing misery, I desire my life 

Once more to look on him. 

Flo, By his command 

Have I here touch'd Sicilia and from him 
Give you all greetings that a king, at friend, 140 

Can send his brother: and, but infirmity 
Which waits upon worn times hath something 

seized 
His wish'd ability, he had himself 
The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his 
Measured to look upon you; whom he loves — 



100 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

He bade me say so — more than all the sceptres 
And those that bear them living. 

Leon. O my brother. 

Good gentleman! the wrongs I have done thee stir 
Afresh within me, and these thy offices. 
So rarely kind, are as interpreters 150 

Of my behind-hand slackness. Welcome hither. 
As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too 
Exposed this paragon to the fearful usage. 
At least imgentle, of the dreadful Neptune, 
To greet a man not worth her pains, much less 
The adventure of her person? 

Flo, Good my lord. 

She came from Libya. 

Leon. Where the warlike Smalus, 

That noble honour 'd lord, is fear'd and loved .^ 

Flo. Most royal sir, from thence; from him, 
whose daughter 
His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: thence, leo 
A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd, 
To execute the charge my father gave me 
For visiting your highness : my best train 
I have from your Sicilian shores dismissed; 
Who for Bohemia bend, to signify 
Not only my success in Libya, sir. 
But my arrival and my wife's in safety 
Here where we are. 

Leon. The blessed gods 

Purge all infection from our air whilst you 
Do climate here ! You have a holy father, 170 

A graceful gentleman; against whose person. 
So sacred as it is, I have done sin: 



Scene One] THE WINTER'S TALE 101 

For which the heavens, taking angry note, 
Have left me issueless; and your father's blest. 
As he from heaven merits it, with you 
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been, 
Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on, 
Such goodly things as you! 

Enter a Lord 

Lord. Most noble sir. 

That which I shall report will bear no credit. 
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir, iso 
Bohemia greets you from himself by me; 
Desires you to attach his son, who has — 
His dignity and duty both cast off — 
'"'■^ Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with 
?*A shepherd's daughter. 

Leon, Where's Bohemia? speak. 

Lord. Here in your city; I now came from him: 
I speak amazedly; and it becomes 
My marvel and my message. To your court 
Whiles he was hastening, in the chase, it seems. 
Of this fair couple, meets he on the way 190 

The father of this seeming lady and 
Her brother, having both their country quitted 
With this young prince. 

Flo. Camillo has betray'd mc, 

Whose honour and whose honesty till now 
Endured all weathers. 

Lord. Lay 't so to his charge: 

He 's with the king your father. 

Leon. Who? Camillo? j 

Lord. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now * 



102 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

Has these poor men in question. Never saw I 
Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the 

earth; 
Forswear themselves as often as they speak: soo 

Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them 
With divers deaths in death. 

Per. O my poor father! 

The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have 
Our contract celebrated. 

Leon. You are married? 

Flo. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be; 
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first: 
The odds for high and low 's alike. 

Leon. My lord, ' 

Is this the daughter of a king? 

Flo. She is, 

When once she is my wife. 

Leon. That *'once," I see by your good father's 

speed, 210 

W^ill come on very slowly. I am sori^% 
Most sorry, you have broken from his liking . 
WTiere you were tied in duty, and as sorry 
Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty. 
That you might well enjoy her. 

Flo. Dear, look up: 

Though Fortune, visible an enemy. 
Should chase us with my father, power no jot 
Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir. 
Remember since you owed no more to time 
Than I do now: with thought of such affections, ao 
Step forth mine advocate; at your request 
My father will grant precious things as trifles. 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 103 

Leon, Would he do so, I'M beg your precious 
mistress, 
Which he counts but a trifle. 

Paul, Sir, my liege. 

Your eye hath too much youth in 't: not a month 
'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes 
Than what you look on now. 

Leon, I thought of her, 

Even in these looks I made. [To FlorizeL] But 

your petition 
Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father: 
Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires, 230 

I am a friend to them and you: upon which errand 
I now go toward him; therefore follow me 
And mark what way I make: come, good my lord. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene II — Before Leontes' palace 
Enter Autolycus and a Gentleman 

Aut, Beseech you, sir, were you present at this 
relation? 

First Gent, I was by at the opening of the 
fardel, heard the old shepherd deliver the manner 
how he found it: whereupon, after a little amazed- 
ness, we were all commanded out of the chamber; 
only this methought I heard the shepherd say, he 
found the child. 

Aut. I would most gladly know the issue of it. 

First Gent. I make a broken delivery of the 10 
business; but the changes I perceived in the king 
and Camillo were very notes of admiration: they 



104 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Fite 

seemed almost, with staring on one another, to 
tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in 
their dumbness, language in their very gesture; 
they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, 
or one destroyed: a notable passion of wonder 
appeared in them; but the wisest beholder, that 
knew no more but seeing, could not say if the 
importance were joy or sorrow; but in the ex- 20 
tremity of the one, it must needs be. 

Ejiter another Gentleman 

Here comes a gentleman that haply knows more. 
The news, Rogero? 

Sec. Gent, Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is 
fulfilled: the king's daughter is found: such a deal 
of wonder is broken out within this hour that ballad- 
makers cannot be able to express it. 

Enter a third Gentleman 

Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward: he can 
deliver you more. How goes it now, sir.^ this 
news which is called true is so like an old tale, so 
that the verity of it is in strong suspicion: has 
the king found his heir.'^ 

Third Gent. Most true, if ever truth were preg- 
nant by circumstance: that which you hear you'll 
swear you see, there is such unity in the proofs. The 
mantle of Queen Hermione's, her jewel about the 
neck of it, the letters of Antigonus found with it 
which they know to be his character, the majesty 
of the creature in resemblance of the mother, the 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 105 

affection of nobleness which nature shows above 40 
her breeding, and many other evidences proclaim 
her with all certainty to be the king's daughter. 
Did you see the meeting of the two kings? 

Sec, Gent. No. 

Third Gent. Then have you lost a sight, which 
was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might 
you have beheld one joy crown another, so and in 
such manner that it seemed sorrow wept to take 
leave of them, for their joy waded in tears. There 50 
was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with 
countenance of such distraction that they were to 
be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, 
being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his 
found daughter, as if that joy were now become a 
loss, cries "O, thy mother, thy mother!" then asks 
Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son-in- 
law; then again worries he his daughter with 
clipping her; now he thanks the old shepherd, 
which stands by like a weather-bitten conduit of eo 
many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another 
encounter, which lames report to follow it and 
undoes description to do it. 

Sec. Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, 
that carried hence the child .^ 

Third Gent. Like an old tale still, which will 
have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep 
and not an ear open. He was torn to pieces with 
a bear: this avouches the shepherd's son; who has 
not only his innocence, which seems much, to justify 70 
him, but a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina 
knows. 



106 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

First Gent, \\Tiat became of his bark and his 
followers? 

Third Gent. Wrecked the same instant of their 
master's death and in the view of the shepherd: 
so that all the instruments which aided to expose 
the child were even then lost when it was found. 
But O, the noble combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow 
was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declined so 
for the loss of her husband, another elevated that 
the oracle was fulfilled : she lifted the princess from 
the earth, and so locks her in embracing, as if she 
would pin her to her heart that she might no more 
be in danger of losing. 

First Gent, The dignity of this act was worth 
the audience of kings and princes; for by such 
was it acted. 

Third Gent, One of the prettiest touches of all 
and that which angled for mine eyes, caught the 90 
water though not the fish, was when, at the relation 
of the queen's death, with the manner how she came 
to 't bravely confessed and lamented by the king, 
how attentiveness wounded his daughter: till, from 
one sign of dolour to another, she did, with an '* Alas," 
I would fain say, bleed tears, for I am sure my heart 
wept blood. WTio was most marble there changed 
colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world 
could have seen 't, the woe had been universal. 100 

First Gent, Are they returned to the court? 

Third Gent, No: the princess hearing of her 
mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, 
— a piece many years in doing and now newly 
performed by that rare Italian master, Julio Ro- 



Scene Two] THE WINTER'S TALE 107 

mano, who, had he himself eternity and could 
put breath into his work, would beguile Nature 
of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near 
to Hermione hath done Hermione that they say 
one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer: no 
thither with all greediness of affection are they gone, 
and there they intend to sup. 

Sec, Gent, I thought she had some great matter 
there in hand; for she hath privately twice or thrice 
a day, ever since the death of Hermione, visited 
that removed house. Shall we thither and with 
our company piece the rejoicing? 

First Gent, Who would be thence that has the 
benefit of access? every wink of an eye some new 
grace will be born : our absence makes us unthrifty 120 
to our knowledge. Let 's along. [Exeunt Gentlemen, 

Aut, Now, had I not the dash of my former life 
in me, would preferment drop on my head. I 
brought the old man and his son aboard the prince; 
told him I heard them talk of a fardel and I know 
not what: but he at that time, over-fond of the 
shepherd's daughter, so he then took her to be, who 
began to be much sea-sick, and himself little better, 
extremity of weather continuing, this mystery re- 
mained undiscovered. But 'tis all one to me; foriso 
had I been the finder out of this secret, it would not 
have relished among my other discredits. 

Enter Shepherd and Clown 

Here come those I have done good to against my 
will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their 
fortune. 



108 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

Shep, Come, boy; I am past moe children, but 
thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. 

Clo. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight 
with me this other day, because I was no gentle- i40 
man born. See you these clothes .^^ say you see 
them not and think me still no gentleman born: 
you were best say these robes are not gentlemen 
born: give me the lie, do, and try whether I am not 
now a gentleman born. 

Aut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born. 

Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four 
hours. 

Shep, And so have I, boy. 

Clo. So you have: but I was a gentleman borniso 
before my father; for the king's son took me by 
the hand, and called me brother; and then the two 
kings called my father brother; and then the prince 
my brother and the princess my sister called my 
father father; and so we wept, and there was the 
first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed. 

Shep, We may live, son, to shed many more. 

Clo. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so 
preposterous estate as we are. 

Aut. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all i60 
I the faults I have committed to your worship and to 
^ give me your good report to the prince my master. 

Shep. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, 
now we are gentlemen. 

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life? 

Aut. Ay, an it like your good worship. 

Clo. Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince 
thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. 170 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 109 

Shep. You may say it, but not swear it. 

Clo, Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let 
boors and franklins say it, I '11 swear it. 

Shep. How if it be false, son.^ 

Clo, If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may 
swear it in the behalf of his friend: and I'll swear 
to the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands 
and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou 
art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt 
be drunk: but I'll swear it, and I would thouiso 
wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands. 

Aut. I will prove so, sir, to my power. 

Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if I 
do not wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, 
not being a tall fellow, trust me not. Hark! the 
kings and the princes, our kindred, are going to 
see the queen's picture. Come, follow us: we'll be 
thy good masters. [Exeunt. 

Scene HI — A chapel in Paulina's house 

Enter Leontes^ Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita, Camillo, 
Paulina^ Lords, and Attendants 

Leon. O grave and good Paulina, the great 
comfort 
That I have had of thee! 

Paul. What, sovereign sir, 

I did not well I meant well. All my services 
You have paid home: but that you have vouchsafed. 
With your crown'd brother and these your con- 
tracted 
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit. 



110 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

It is a surplus of your grace, which never 
My life may last to answer. 

Leon. O Paulina, 

We honour you with trouble: but we came 
To see the statue of our queen : your gallery lo 

Have we pass'd through, not without much content 
In many singularities; but we saw not 
That which my daughter came to look upon. 
The statue of her mother. 

Paul, As she lived peerless. 

So her dead likeness, I do well believe, 
Excels whatever yet you look'd upon 
Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it 
Lonely, apart. But here it is : prepare 
To see the life as lively mock'd as ever 
Still sleep mock'd death: behold, and say 't is well. 20 
[Paulina draws a curtain, and discovers 

Hermione standing like a statue.] 
I like your silence, it the more shows off 
Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege. 
Comes it not something near.^ 

Leon, Her natural posture! 

Chide ijie, dear stone, that I may say indeed 
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she 
In thy not chiding, for she was as tender 
As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina, 
Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing 
So aged as this seems. 

Pol, O, not by much. 

Paul, So much the more our carver's excellence; 30 
Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her 
As she lived now. 



Scene Three] THE WINTER^S TALE 111 

Leon, As now she might have done. 

So much to my good comfort, as it is 
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood. 
Even with such life of majesty, warm life, 
As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her! 
I am ashamed : does not the stone rebuke me 
For being more stone than it? O royal piece 
There 's magic in thy majesty, which has 
My evils conjured to remembrance and 40 

From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, 
Standing like stone with thee. 

Per. And give me leave. 

And do not say 't is superstition, that 
I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady, 
Dear queen, that ended when I but began, 
Give me that hand of yours to kiss. 

Paul. O, patience! 

The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's 
Not dry. 

Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on. 
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, 50 

So many summers dry: scarce any joy 
Did ever so long live; no sorrow 
But kill'd itself much sooner. 

Pol. Dear my brother. 

Let him that was the cause of this have power 
To take off so much grief from you as he 
Will piece up in himself. 

Paul. Indeed, my lord, 

If I had thought the sight of my poor image 
Would thus have wrought you, — for the stone is 
mine — 



112 THE WINTERS TALE [Act Five 

I 'Id not have show'd it. 

Leon, Do not draw the curtain. 

Paul, No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest eo 
your fancy 
May think anon it moves. 

Leon, Let be, let be. 

Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already — 
What was he that did make it? See, my lord, 
Would you not deem it breathed.^ and that those 

veins 
Did verily bear blood .^^ 

Pol, Masterly done: 

The very life seems warm upon her lip. 

Leon, The fixture of her eye has motion in 't, 
As we are mock'd with art. 

Paul, I'll draw the curtain: 

My lord 's almost so far transported that 
He'll think anon it lives. 

Leon, O sweet Paulina, i 70 

Make me to think so twenty years together! 
No settled senses of the world can match 
The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone. 

Paul, I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd 
you: but 
I could aflBiict you farther. 

Leon, Do, Paulina; 

* For this affliction has a taste as sweet 

• As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks. 
There is an air comes from her: what fine chisel 
Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me, 
For I will kiss her. 

Paul. Good my lord, forbear: so 



Scene Three] THE WINTER^S TALE 113 

The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; 

You '11 mar it if you kiss it, stain your own 

With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain? 

Leon, No, not these twenty years. 

Per. So long could I 

Stand by, a looker on. 

Paul. Either forbear. 

Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you 
For more amazement. If you can behold it, 
I '11 make the statue move indeed, descend 
And take you by the hand: but then you'll think — 
Which I protest against — I am assisted 90 

By wicked powers. 

Leon. What you can make her do, 

I am content to look on: what to speak, 
I am content to hear; for 't is as easy 
To make her speak as move. 

Paul. It is required 

You do awake your faith. Then all stand still; 
On: those that think it is unlawful business 
I am about, let them depart. 

Leon. Proceed: 

No foot shall stir. 

Paul. Music, awake her; strike! [Music. 

'T is time; descend; be stone no more; approach: 
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, 100 

I '11 fill your grave up : stir, nay, come away. 
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him 
Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs : 

[Hermione comes down. 
Start not; her actions shall be holy as 
You hear my spell is lawful: do not shun her 



114 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

Until you see her die again; for then 
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand: 
When she was young you woo'd her; now in age 
Is she become the suitor? 

Leon, O, she's warm! 

If this be magic, let it be an art no 

Lawful as eating. 

Pol. She embraces him. 

Cam, She hangs about his neck: 
If she pertain to life let her speak too. 

PoL Ay, and make 't manifest where she has 
lived, 
Or how stolen from the dead. 

PauL That she is living. 

Were it but told you, should be hooted at 
Like an old tale : but it appears she lives. 
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while. 
Please you to interpose, fair madam: kneel 
And pray your mother's blessing. Turn, good lady; 120 
Our Perdita is found. 

Her. You gods, look down 

And from your sacred vials pour your graces 
Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own. 
Where hast thou been preserved.^ where lived .^^ 

how found 
Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear that I, 
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle 
Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved 
Myself to see the issue. 

PauL There's time enough for that; 

Lest they desire upon this push to trouble 
Your joys with like relation. Go together, 130 



Scene Three] THE WINTER'S TALE 115 

You precious winners all; your exultation 
Partake to every one. I, an old turtle, 
Will wing me to some withered bough and there 
My mate, that 's never to be found again. 
Lament till I am lost. 

Leon. O, peace, Paulina! 

Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent, 
As I by thine a wife : this is a match, 
And made between's vows. Thou hast found mine; 
But how, is to be question'd; for I saw her, 
As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many i40 
A prayer upon her grave. I '11 not seek far — 
For him, I partly know his mind — to find thee 
An honourable husband. Come, Camillo, 
And take her by the hand, whose worth and 

honesty 
Is richly noted and here justified 
By us, a pair of kings. Let 's from this place. 
What! look upon my brother: both your pardons. 
That e'er I put between your holy looks 
My ill suspicion. This' your son-in-law 
And son unto the king, who, heavens directing, 150 

Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina, 
Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely 
Each one demand and answer to his part 
Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first 
We were dissever'd: hastily lead away. [Exeunt. 



NOTES 



ABBREVIATIONS 

Abbott . . . . • Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar^ 3d edi- 
tion. 

FlorF First Folio (1623) of Shakespeare's plays. 

¥2 Second Folio (1632). 

F 3 Third Folio (1663 and 1664). 

F 4 Fourth Folio (1685). 

New Eng. Diet. . . A New English Dictionary^ ed. Murray. 

For the meaning of words not given in these notes, the student 
is referred to the Glossary at the end of the volume. 

The numbering of the hues corresponds to that of the Globe 
Edition : this applies also to the scenes in prose. 

Dramatis Personae, This is given imperfectly in Ff and was 
first compiled fully by Rowe. 



ACT I— SCENE 1 

The play opens with the note of happy anticipation and expect- 
ancy, there is joy in Bohemia and Sicilia and the consummation of 
joy is looked for in the promise of the young prince. But this 
vision is to be cruelly destroyed. 

Antechamber in Leontes* Palace, F 1 has simply Sccena prima, 
Rowe has A Palace; Theobald and following editors have An 
A ntechamher in Leontes" Palace. 

7. Bohemia, the King of Bohemia. Cf. 21, Sicilia = the King 
of Sicilia. Similarly, "England" and '* France" in King John, 
'* Egypt" for Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra, 

9-10. " For whatever of our entertainment may shame us, our 
cordiality shall make amends." The Folios have a colon after 
shame us; with this reading, wherein refers to visitation, and the 
meaning is, ** In this visit of yours 'though we cannot give you 



Scene Two] NOTES 117 

equal entertainment, yet the consciousness of our good-will shall 
justify us ' (Johnson)." 

26. which, siS. See Abbott, § 278. 

30. attorneyed. Nobly supplied by substitution of embassies, 
etc., (Johnson), an attorney being primarily a substitute: cf. 
Comedy of Errors ^ v. 1. 100. 

" I will have no attorney but myself.'* 

33. a vast, A wide desolate stretch; of space, in this instance, 
as in Pericles, iii. 1. 1, '* Thou God of this great vast "; of time, in 
Hamlet, i. 2. 198, "the dead vast and middle of the night." 

37-50. Note the irony of these speeches when read in the light 
of subsequent happenings. All these early references to Mamillius 
make his death the more pathetic, and so increase our horror at the 
frenzy of Leontes which brings it about. 

38. of, ** In," in a local or even instrumental sense. 

40. note. Knowledge: cf. Lear, ii. 1. 85, 

" that all the kingdom 
May have due note of him." 

43. physics the subject. Affords a cordial to the state (Johnson). 
Subject is used collectively for the subjects: cf. Hamlet, i. 1. 72, 

" Why this same stout and most observant watch 
So nightly toils the subject of the land." j 

SCENE 2 

This scene introduces the chief characters to us, and gives the 
plot its starting point : we see Leontes gradually submerged in 
jealousy, and gradually but swiftly work himself into frenzy. He 
plots against Pohxenes' life, but Polixenes is informed by Camillo, 
whom the king had chosen as poisoner of his friend; so they flee 
together. Shakespeare intensifies the bitterness and gloom by 
alternating with it glimpses and recollections of the happiness and 
joy which is being thus rudely disturbed. 

A room of state in the same. Capell supplies this headline, the 
Folios reading only Sccena Secunda: his reading is followed by 
subsequent editors. 

1. Nine changes, etc. Nine months have elapsed since . . . etc. 

the watery star, i.e. the moon; cf. Hamlet, i. 1. 118, where 
the moon is referred to as the '* moist star." 

hath. Either singular by attraction after **star": or possibly 



118 THE WINTER^S TALE [ActOnf 

a 3d person plural in —th. F 1 has an instance of the latter in the 
present play, i. 1. 30, but Ff 3, 4 read have, and Abbott (§ 334) 
gives only one clear instance of such plural — The Merchant of 
Venice, iii. 2. 33, ** where men enforced doth speak anything." 

2. Note. Observation, reckoning: '* reckoning" is perhaps 
better, as it gives point to the mention of the shepherd by alluding 
to his and the countryman's way of marking time. 

6-8. Cf. Henry V, Chorus 15-18: 

" O pardon ! since a crooked figure may 
Attest in little place a million : 
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, . 
On your imaginary forces work.'* 

8. moe, i. e, more. " Moe" is really the neuter form, "more'' 
being masculine and feminine. But Shakespeare often uses ** moe " 
as the plural, *' more " as the singular: Cf. '* enow " and *' enough." 

12-14. that may blow, etc. This is generally taken as a wish. 
But the expression may be elliptical, and as *' fears" that a thing 
may happen necessarily, involve *' hopes" that it may not, the full 
expression would be, ** 1 am questioned by my fears as to what may 
happen and only hope that no sneaping winds, etc." (Deighton.) 
The this in 1. 14 then refers to the one particular fear expressed by 
the phrase " that may blow," etc.: Pohxenes hopes that he will not 
have to say that this fear is too well justified, ** put forth too truly." 

16. put us to 't : force us to do our utmost, drive us to ex- 
tremities. 

19. / 'II no, etc. , i. e. I will have no, etc. 

24-25. which to hinder . . . whip to me. To hinder which 
would be a punishment to me, although you inflicted it out of love. 
(Furness.) 

28 ff. Hermione has been silent up to now: but her very first 
words prevent our setting this down to ^weakness or ineffectual 
modesty, as it might have been with some women. The fact of her 
silence, leading to the king's request that she should speak, serves 
to heighten the causelessness of his jealousy: the reason for her 
silence is sufficient for its fact, and moreover, assures us of the fact 
that we are dealing with a queen of no mean dignity and power. 

33. ward. Posture of defence. The metaphor (of fencing) is 
introduced by the " charge " in 1. 30. 

39. at, i.e. in: cf. Richard II, v. 3. 51: ** at London." 

40. take. Probably, ** charm." The New Eng. Diet, only 
gives *'take" in the sense of casting an evil charm, "to strike 



Scene Two] NOTES 119 

with disease," quoting The Merry Wives, iv. 4. 33, " he blasts the 
tree and takes the cattle," Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 9. 37, *' Now, 
the witch take m^,''^ Hamlet, i. 1. 163, "then no planets strike. 
No fairy takes." But the word must also have been used in the 
sense of casting a pleasant spell, "to enthral with delight ": e.g. 
The Winter'' s Tale, iv, 4. 120, "daffodils, that . . . take the winds 
of March with beauty." Professor Moorman quotes also Jonson, 
Tlie Memory of Shakespeare, 

" Those flights upon the banks of Thame? * 
That so did take Eliza and our James." • 

To let him, to allow him to remain. 

41. gest, the time allotted for a halt. This is the interpretation 
of the New Eng, Diet,, which marks such use as peculiar to Shake- 
speare. The usual form of the word is "gist," now obsolete, 
meaning " a stopping place," like the French gite, a lodging. The 
transference of the idea of an " appointed place " to that of an 
" appointed time " is not difficult to conceive. 

42. good deed. In deed, in reality. 

43. jar. Tick: cf.jl Hey wood's Troia Britannica, canto iv. stanza 
107, " He hears no wakinge-clocke, nor watch to jarre." 

43-44. The expression is doubly elliptical : it would read in full, 
" I love thee not one jar of the clock behind that love with which 
whatever lady she loves her lord." The first ellipsis would give, 
" I love thee not one jar o' the clock behind what whatever lady 
she her lord " : and the second, after cutting down " whatever " to 
" what" (cf. Abbott, § 266, and The Tempest, iii. 1. n, " Beyond all 
limit of what else i' the world.") and then squeezing the two 
"whats" so obtained, into one, gives "I love thee not one jar o' 
the clock behind what lady she her lord." 

" She " is used as a noun as often in Shakespeare, meaning 
"woman." Cf. Twelfth Night, i. 5. 259, "Lady, you are the 
crueirst she alive." "Lady "has then an attributive sense, "of 
rank" — the idea carried with it being probably one commonly 
found in literature, that a woman of rank would have a nobler con- 
ception of her honour, and hence, of the love owing to her husband 
than would a woman of no rank. 

Collier's adoption of "should " for " she " from a note on a copy 
of F 1 is prosaic, but not so much so as Deighton's suggestion that 
the "she" is merely redundant. Moreover, there is no need to 
insert the hyphen "lady-she" as most editors have done since 
Staunton: none of the Ff have it. 



120 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

52-53. Rowe made this interrogative by putting a mark of in- 
terrogation after "guest," and is commended by Furness. But 
there is no need to do so; none of the Ff do. And moreover the 
line better expresses the tone of Hermione's remark without the 
interrogation, though with it the meaning would be the same. She 
expresses a fixed determination to keep Polixenes as prisoner or as 
guest: that is the important point: whether as guest or as prisoner 
is for the moment a secondary consideration to be taken up later 
(1. 56). The use of the imperative '* force " emphasises her resolu- 
tion: the interrogative would tend to throw the emphasis on the sec- 
ondary question "as a prisoner, not like a guest." 

53. pay your fees, '* An allusion to a piece of English law pro- 
cedure — that, guilty or innocent, the prisoner was liable to pay a 
fee on his liberation." (Campbell.) 

68. changed, i. e, exchanged. This is an instance of intense 
dramatic irony: just at this moment Leontes is exchanging not in- 
nocence, but guilt, for innocence! Observe, too, how as soon as the 
first step to tragedy is taken by Polixenes' surrender to Hermione, 
we have the alternating note of joy in the revival of remembered 
joy and the questionings of days of youth. Perhaps Hermione has 
already detected signs of moodiness in Leontes, and by her talking 
of youth is trying to draw him into conversation: but he remains 
silent. 

70. This is the reading of F 1. Ff 2, 3, 4, insert " no " between 
"ill-doing" and "nor," and so supply the omission in F 1 of the 
stressed syllable in the fourth foot. But perhaps the pause can 
have metrical value sufficient to compensate for the omission. 

73. blood. Passions: the passions were supposed to have origin 
in the blood: cf. Hamlet, iii, 2, 74, " whose blood and judgment 
are so well commingled." 

74-75. the imposition cleafd hereditary ours. Paraphrase thus, 
** Had we pursued that life of innocence we should have removed 
even that stain of original sin which is imposed on all of us by the 
very fact of our birth." " Clear 'd" implies the idea of the wash- 
ing away of a stain, not merely the temporary suspension of the 
consideration of it, as Theobald interpreted — " setting aside orig- 
inal sin, bating the imposition from the offence of our first parents, 
we might," etc. 

76 ff. Note how dramatically Shakespeare uses these innocent ten- 
der memories. Taken simply, their tenderness and joy accentuate 
by contrast the gloom to follow: for Leontes, if he heard them, 
they must have been goads to press on thoughts on which he was 



Scene Two] NOTES 121 

brooding: and still further, they serve to draw forth evidence of 
Hermione's gaiety and wit. 

80. Grace to hoot, *' Grace to our profit," hence, Grace help 
us! cf. Richard 111, v. 3, 301, ** St. George to boot!" 

87. At my request, etc. This is only intelligible as a working 
of jealousy if we assume that it has been simmering some little 
time: we imagine that during the last fifty lines Leontes has been 
wrapped in jealous broodings. 

89. Never? Again the memories of happiness and joy are called 
up — all of them to intensify what is to follow. 

101-105. These words must be spoken with a note of suppressed 
bitterness. Otherwise the " Too hot" immediately following is an 
abrupt and inconsequential change. 

112. A line with two extra-metrical unstressed syllables. See 
Appendix B. 

113. fertile bosom. Paraphrase "abundant generosity." 
115. paddling, fingering fondly. 

118. The mort & the deer. It is probably better to interpret 
as Skeat does, *' * Mort ' just means ' death,' neither more nor less* 
la mort sans phrase." Though it is indubitable that the "mort" 
of the deer was a hunting phrase denoting the four notes blown 
when the deer was taken, yet the simile does not involve allusion 
so much to the sound of the huntsman's horn as to the last sighs 
of the death-stricken deer. 

120. r fecks, A colloquialism for "in faith." Again we note 
the alternation of joy and-gloom, repose and tremor cordis: Leontes' 
last speech was the grimmest we have had so far, and so here fol- 
lows a relatively stronger repose than memories of youth, viz., the 
actual presence of Mamillius. But the horror returns at once. 

123. neat. This takes up the suggestion underlying " brows" 
(1. 119), "neat" being horned cattle. 

125. virginalling , i.e. playing with the fingers as on the virgin- 
als. A virginal, or a pair of virginals, was a musical instrument, a 
square-legged spinet, much in use in the seventeenth century. 

126. calf. This was used as a term of endearment. "To the 
present day among the peoples of the Highlands of Scotland, and 
of the Gaehc speaking population of Ireland, lao()h^ which means 
a calf or a fawn, is the very fondest epithet that a mother can ap- 
ply to her boy-baby." (Mackay.) 

128. a rough pash and the shoots, probably "the rough head 
and the horns." Leontes is coarsely and gruesomely revelling in 
his own imagined shame. 



122 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

132. o'er 'dyed blacks, " Black garments the texture of which 
is weakened by excessive dyeing. In other words, the adjective 
* false' refers, not to the colour, but to the texture of the garments.'* 
(Moorman.) 

137. my coilop! As an illustration of this as a term of endear- 
ment, Professor Herford quotes the proverbial saying that " it is a 
dear coilop that is cut out of their own flesh. " 

138-144, Leontes' thought here is difficult to follow. It turns on 
the tyranny of the emotions and dramatically enough is, in its form^ 
the expression in brief utterances, bordering on obscurity, of one 
himself under their tyranny. The structure is broken by the paren- 
thesis, ** How can this be?" which dramatically serves to intensify 
the frenzy by keeping its immediate cause — Hermione's supposed 
guilt — immediately before the speaker's eye: for unlike Hamlet 
Leontes does not fly to tranquil regions of intellectual generalities 
remote from the immediate circumstances occasioning them: his 
imagination in this, its wildest flight, is in close and passionate con- 
tact with its supposed real basis in fact. 

Leontes starts by disbelieving momentarily his suspicions: " can 
thy dam" be guilty? The remark, " Aff'ection, thy intention 
stabs the centre," may express his own consciousness that the in- 
tensity {intention) of his emotions {affection) may overcome and is 
overcoming and destroying his saner thoughts and better nature 
{stabs the centre). But immediately he has given expression to his 
remark on the intensity of emotions, he himself is swiftly trans- 
ported by their intensity: and the consciousness of its destructive 
power passes rapidly away step by step, so that from a first dis- 
trust in the possibility of his wife's dishonour he ultimately reaches 
conviction of it. "An intense emotion makes a man believe what 
he thought impossible, even imparts reality to dreams and gives 
body to nothing " (139-142): thus much the reason might grant as a 
general position, but at once comes the intensity of emotion when 
Leontes applies the general position to his own case : "if the inten- 
sity of emotion has such power when its creatures have no basis in 
fact, how much greater is its power when it is working on things 
which have a basis in fact" (142-143): even yet the consciousness 
of the tyranny of the emotions has not altogether passed; he yet 
realises that they may transport "beyond commission " (144), i. e. 
that they may give conviction beyond the warrant of fact. But 
now he himself is quite under their tyranny and he is pushed by 
them to the conviction of his wife's dishonour. 

151. its. The more usual genitive of "it" in Shakespeare is 



Scene Two] NOTES 1 23 

** his.'' *' Its " occurs but ten times in F 1, and generally is more 
emphatic than *' his '' would be. See Abbott, § 22S. Cf. 11. 152 and 
966 below. 

15dL methoughts. This is a common Elizabethan variant of 
*' methought '" by analogy with "methinks." 

16L Will you take eggs for money? A proverb, meaning ** Will 
you submit to take eggs instead of money?" "Will you suifer 
yourself to be cozened ? " 

163. happy man he's dole! A proverbial expression: " may his 
* dole ' or share in life be to be a happy man " (Johnson). 

171-172. So stands . . . me. "Such is this child's function 
towards me." 

174 ff. The bitterness and irony of Leontes in this and the next 
speech need no comment. 

177. Apparent, i. e> heir apparent, next heir. 

178. ShalVs. Shall we. 

183. neh. This word seems originally to have been used for the 
beak of a bird: and so its later use for the mouth or the nose may 
easily be understood. Here the lips, or the mouth, seems the 
obvious meaning. 

188. whose issue, i e. the issue of which. Note Leontes' im- 
agery throughout this scene : it is coarse and brutal, often filthy. 

196. Sir Smile, " Possibly suggested by a smile on the face of 
Pohxenes, whom Leontes is furtively watching." (Furness.) 

201-202, It is . . . predominant. Paraphrase, '* This Vice is a 
sort of planet of unchastity, spreading ruin where it is in the 
ascendant {predominant) by making wives unfaithful." Strike is 
obviously here "to blast," '*to destroy by malign influence": cf. 
i. 40. 

214, still came home. "Continually came back," i. e. failed to 
take hold. 

217. They 're here with me already. *' The people are already 
mocking me with this opprobrious gesture — the cuckold's emblem 
— with their fingers " (Staunton). 

rounding may be rendered " whispering with an air of mystery," 
thus preserving the idea of mystery which was early associated 
with the word '* rune," from which the verb " to round" (properly 
** roun," ** rown," from O. E. rQnian) is derived " (Moorman). 

218. so-forth. Leontes uses this to avoid using a plain but 
opprobious word. 

222. so it is, i. e. so it happens. 

224. thy conceit is soaking. ** Thy mind is receptive." 



124 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

225. common blocks. The metaphor is drawn from the absorb- 
ent quahty of wooden hat-blocks on which the crown of a hat was 
shaped. 

226. severals, that is, individuals. 

227. lower messes. Those who dine at the lower tables; hence 
*' menials." 

237. The chamber-councils allude probably not to matters of 
state but to particulars of Leontes' private life. 

248. play'd home. Played to a finish: cf. King Lear, iii. 3. 13, 
** these injuries the king now bears will be revenged home." 

256. industriously, i. e. by forethought and plan, deliberately. 

259-261. where I the issue . . . non-performance. Capell's 
paraphrase makes the meaning quite clear: '* the execution of 
which by another did cry out against his non-performance lolio should 
have done it: meaning, cause him to be condemned, when his 
' doubted issue ' proved happy. " 

267. Leontes becomes incoherent. He is overbrimming in his 
conviction, attested by all his faculties, seeing, hearing, thinking, 
etc. His utter blindness is seen in his denomination of the half- 
expected denial as *' impudent." But the climax is reached when 
he puts the burden of the proof upon Camiilo. 

268. eye-glass. Used for the crystalline lens of the eye. 

270. For to a vision so apparent. *' For to a thing so clear to be 
seen." 

271-2. for cogitation . . . think. To make this something more 
than an empty platitude '* think " must be construed with *' my 
wife is slippery." 

281. present, i. e. instant. 

284. that, i. e. Hermione's supposed sin. 

286. career. Literally, ** the gallop at full speed," and hence 
"the free course." 

288. horsing foot on foot. Setting his foot on hers, hers on his. 

291. pin and web. Cataract : cf. Florio, A Worlde of Wordes 
(1598), ** Cateratta, Also a disease in the eies called a pin and a 
web"; amd King Lear, iii. 4. 120,1** He gives the web and pin, squints 
the eye." 

306. glass, i. e. hour-glass. 

307. her medal. A medal of her. 
311. thrifts. That is, profits. 

314. bench' d. Metaphorically, '* raised to authority." 

worship. Dignity. 

317. To give mine enemy a lasting wink. To kill : cf. The 



Scene Two] NOTES 125 

Tempest^ ii. 1. 985, *' To the perpetual wink for aye might put this 
ancient morsel." 

318. cordial. Used adjectively, *' restorative, comforting." 

319.'ra5/i. Quick. 

323. So sovereignly being honourable. Paraphrase, " being 
so sovereignly, so supremely honourable." 

324. that, i e, the crack in his dread mistress. The meaning is, 
** if you doubt her unfaithfulness, go rot ! " 

326. To appoint myself in, to put onto myself. 

334. fetch off. That is, **kill." Shakespeare's language is in 
close touch with the living and actually spoken language of his 
day ; yet it would not be quite accurate to say that this is a 
colloquialism. 

337-338. and thereby . . . tongues. That is, " and moreover 
in order to silence slanderous tongues. " 

358. Of thousands that had struck anointed kings, etc. Sir 
William Blackstone argued from this passage that The Winter'' s 
Tale must have been written after the death of Elizabeth : for she 
had put Mary, Queen of Scots, to death, and an author who wrote 
a passage like this in her lifetime would have been courting disaster. 

363. break-neck, " Ruinous course" : this is another instance 
of Shakespeare's language pulsating with the blood of actual life. 

372. Wafting his eyes to the contrary, *' Turning his glance 
hastily in the opposite direction." 

falling is here used factitively : " letting fall." 

377-380. This passage may be paraphrased thus, *' That must be 
case ('tis thereabouts) — you do know and dare not tell : you are 
intelligible to yourself obviously, for what you do know, you must 
know ; you cannot say to yourself you dare not yourself know. 
Treat me with the same plainness — be intelligible to me, tell me 
openly and plainly that I may understand." 

388. basilisk. This (also called a cockatrice) is a fabulous rep- 
tile hatched by a serpent from a cock's egg : it was supposed to 
have power to kill by its breath and look. Halliwell quotes from 
Holland's Plinie, *' Yea, and (by report) if he [the basilisk] do but 
set his eie on a man, it is enough to take away his life." 

393. gentry. That is, '' rank." 

394. In whose success, i. e. , by virtue of succession from whom. 
397. ignorant concealment. Concealment by shamming igno- 
rance. 

400. all the parts of man, '* All the duties imposed by Honour 
on man." (Furness.) 



126 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act One 

412. him, Shakespeare is using the pronoun here where we 
should use a noun— ''the man." " I am appointed the man to ' 
murder you." Such a usage is common in Shakespeare ; cf. Twelfth 
Night, i. 5. 259, " Lady, you are the cruePst she alive." 

416. vice. Metaphorically, "to screw, as with the instrument, 
the vice." 

419. Best, L e, Christ. 

424-425. Swear his thought over, etc. Paraphrase , ** Over- 
swear, bear down his thought by calling every star in heaven to 
witness your innocence." 

430-431. will continue . . . body, i. e„ will last as long as his 
body lasts. 

431. this, i. e. this suspicion of me. 

435. trunk. Figuratively, " body. " 

444. I dare not stand by, I dare not remain here (if you seek 
to corroborate my information). 

446. Thereon his execution sworn, " Whose execution thereon 
(^. e. by his conviction) has been determined." 

448. places, i. e. station. 

456. Professed, Made professions of friendship : of. Jvlius 

CcBsar, i. 2. 77, ^ 

if you know 
That I profess myself in banqueting 
To all the rout, then hold me dangerous." 

458-460. Furness's explanation of this passage seems the best. 
According to him, Polixenes, despite Camillo's clear expression 
(414-417), has not realized the extent of Leontes' suspicion: he 
imagines that Leontes only suspects his (Polixenes') faith, not that 
of Hermione as well; he thinks that Leontes has a suspicion that 
he (Polixenes) has designs on the queen's honor, but that they re- 
main no more than designs at present: so happiness will be restored 
by his own flight ; the king will believe that danger is removed, 
and the queen will at least have the comfort of that. This is the 
only interpretation which allows of our regarding Polixenes' de- 
parture as honourable, and not a cowardly desertion of Hermione in 
the teeth of her infuriated husband. And moreover the text is 
most obviously interpreted, " May my hasty departure prove my 
best course, and bring what comfort it may to the gracious queen, 
whose name cannot but be linked with mine in the king's thoughts, 
but who is not yet the fatal object of his ill-founded suspicion " — 
as Furness interprets it. 

462. avoid. That is, " depart." 



Scene One] NOTES 127 



ACT II — SCENE 1 

This scene opens with the note of exquisite joy and promise, but 
the suggestion of a sad winter's tale and of churchyards, prepares for 
the entry of Leontes, further infuriated by hearing of the flight of 
Camillo and Pohxenes. And the scene passes at once to the tragic 
part of the plot, the juxtaposition of tragedy and idyll being typical 
of the Romances, 

A room in Leontes' Palace. The Ff have simply Scwna Prima, 
and Enter Hermione, Mamillius, Ladies : Leontes, Antic/onus, Lords. 
Rowe supphed the headline : and also postponed mention of the 
entry of Leontes, etc., until the appropriate place — 1. 32. 

I. Note that the only suggestion in Greene for this scene is the 
one line which says that the guards came upon Bellaria at play 
with Garinter. 

II. Who taught' this! This is the reading of F 1, the apostro- 
phe indicating that a you is to be elided for metrical reasons. 
Rowe printed the you in full, as do most subsequent editors. But 
the apostrophe is sufficient. 

31. Yond crickets. *' Mamillius refers to *yond' Ladies-in- 
waiting, with their tittering and chirping laughter." (Furness.) 

37. censure, i. e. judgment, the usual meaning in Shakespeare. 
37 ff. Leontes has utterly persuaded himself of the truth of his 

suspicions; he doubts no longer. 

38. Alack, for lesser knowledge. *' O that my knowledge were 
less." (Johnson). 

40. A spider steep'd. The allusion is to the old belief that a 
spider was venomous provided that one knew of its presence in 
the poisoned food or drink : ignorance of its presence was a charm 
against its poison. 

45. hefts. Heavings. 

51. pinch'd. Galled, outwitted, tricked: the word expresses 
the physical torment Leontes was feeling as well as the spiritual 
torment. 

62. But I 'Id say, etc. I need but say, etc. This remark of 
Hermione's reveals her open nature, and at the same time reflects 
some credit on Leontes, for Hermione trusts in his love for her. 

64. to the nayward, i. e., to denial. 

69. her without-door form. Cf. Cymheline, i. 6. 15, **A11 of 
her, that is out of door, most rich." (Walker.) 



128 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

71. brands, Marks of disgrace: again we see how Leontes 
conceives of these things as physical distortions and sufferings. 

72-3. O, I am out . . . does. ''I am wrong; not calumny, 
but mercy herself in this case uses these brands. " 

79. replenished. Metaphorically (from the root idea of *' full ") 
' perfect. ' 

82-3. O thou thing , , . place, Leontes will not call her, as 
she is a queen, by the name he thinks she has deserved by the 
crime he imputes to her. 

86. mannerly distinguishment. Distinctions according to social 
etiquette. 

94. vulgars, i. e. vulgar people. 

95 ff. Hermione's first thought when she sees that Leontes is 
serious in his accusations is for his feelings when he finds himself 
wrong: and when immediately afterward she talks of the wrong 
done to her, it is with a suggestion of tenderness reminiscent of 
the way old differences were made up, merely by acknowledging 
their error. 

102. centre. According to the Ptolemaic system of astronomy 
the earth was the centre of the world. Here centre means *' earth." 

104. afar off guilty, guilty in some, though remote, degree. 
The sense of the whole line is, ** He who shall speak for her, shall, 
merely because he speaks, be regarded as in some measure a 
sharer in her guilt. " 

115. heard, i. e. obeyed. 

118. fools. The word is here used as a term of endearment: cf. 
Kin(/ Lear, v. 3. 247, " And my poor fool is hanged." 

121. action. This is used somewhat loosely in a legal sense, 
"indictment." 

133-135. // it prove , , , couples with her. Herford explains 
as follows: '' If Hermione is unfaithful, I '11 turn my wife's chamber 
to a stall, treat her as I treat my horses and hounds, nay, run in 
leashes with her myself." Other editors, notably Malone, have 
taken the first proposition, *' I '11 keep my stables where I lodge 
my wife," as merely expressing the same idea as the second, '*I '11 
go in couples with her," that is, **I '11 fasten her to me, since I will 
trust her no farther than when I feel and see her." Hanmer takes 
stables as a wrong reading for stable-stand, a terra used in Forest 
Laws — stabilis statio — to denote a station or place where a deer 
stealer fixes his stand to watch for and kill deer. But not to go 
into minute details as to exact meaning, the phrase *' I '11 keep ray 
stable where I lodge my wife " expresses, through imagery appro- 



Scene One] NOTES 129 

priate to the type of character of Antigonus, that trust in one fun- 
damental thing on which the whole order of the universe is built, 
which in different image is expressed by the philosophic Elder 
Brother in Comus : 

" If this fail 
The pillar'd fermament is rottenness 
And earth's base built on stubble." 

It is Antigonus' mode of expressing an utterly annihilating and 
destructive supposition by imagery of domestic topsy-turvy dom, 
stables where the ladies' chamber would naturally be. 

143. land-damn. This is the spelUng of F 4. Ff 1, 2, 3 have 
land-damne. The word has caused great difficulty to commenta- 
tors. Some of them regard the word as a misprint, where the 
■ — damn is due to the damrCd in the previous line having caught 
the printers' eye again: and so they offer many emendations: land- 
damm (Hanmer), lamback (Collier), laudanum (Farmer), live-damn 
(Walker), half-damn (Heath). Other commentators say that land- 
damn is an instance of Shakespeare's use of an obsolete dialect 
word. Huntly (Glossary/ of the Cotswold Dialect) gives, *' Landam, 
To abuse with rancour, damn through the land." ThorncHfF {Notes 
and Queries, 1875, v. iii. 464) writes: " Forty years ago an old cus- 
tom was still in use in this district [Buxton]. When any slanderer 
was detected, or any parties discovered in adultery, it was usual to 
Ian-dan them. This was done by the rustics traversing from house 
to house along the countryside blowing trumpets and beating 
drums or pans and kettles. When an audience was assembled, the 
delinquents' names were proclaimed, and they were thus land- 
damned,''^ Another correspondent to the same journal (7th series, 
xii. 160) asserts that land-damn was used fifty years ago in the West 
Riding of Yorkshire. Wright's English Dialect Dictionary also 
gives the words landam, landan, and the compounds landam-lantan, 
lantan-rantan, as obsolete words of the Gloucestershire dialect 
meaning *'to abuse with rancour": but C. T. Onions {A Shake- 
speare Glossary) says "that the alleged survival of the word in 
dialects with the sense ' to abuse with rancour ' appears to be im- 
perfectly authenticated." He himself offers a conjectural meaning, 
" to make a hell on earth for." 

148. false generations, i. e. bastards. 

151-154. Note the type of imagery Leontes uses. 

153-4. As you feel doing thus. This alludes to some stage- 
action done either by Antigonus to himself or by Leontes to Antig- 
onus, perhaps, as Hanmer says in his stage-direction, Eeontes 



130 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

prasps Antigonus by the arm: in either case *' the instruments that 
feel " are the fingers. 

159. Upon this ground, in this case. 

165. which, Abbott (§ 249) calls this the supplementary pronoun. 
After quoting this passage, he adds "Here, ivhich means *as re- 
gards which,' and in this and in other places, it approximates to 
that vulgar idiom which is well known to readers of Martin Chuz- 
zUwit. " 

176. touched conjecture, roused suspicion. 

177-8. That lack'd sight . . . seeing. ''That wanted nothing 
for proof but actual eye witness." 

180. In the novel Pandosto, the queen suggests the appeal to the 
oracle. By making Leontes do it of his own initiative Shakespeare 
somewhat redeems the king: he accentuates his conviction and 
gives him some semblance of a desire to be just ; he also lets us 
see that Leontes really loves his wife; thus better preparing the 
ground for the violent repulsion that follows the report of the oracle. 

183. Delphos. The oracle was at Delphi, and this, by confu- 
sion with Delos, is conceived to be an island. But in this confusion 
Shakespeare is following Greene. 

185. stuffed. Metaphorically, " abundant, adequate. " 

187. Note how Leontes seeks the approbation of his courtiers. 
It is one of Shakespeare's ways of securing some sympathy for an 
apparently impossibly difficult case. 

194. free, that is, accessible to all. 

195-196. Lest that the treachery . . . perform. This alludes to 
the **plot against his life and crown" in which Leontes believed 
Hermione was conspiring with Polixenes and Camillo. 

198. raise, stir up. 

SCENE 9 

This scene introduces to us the impetuous Paulina, and by the 
revelation of her impetuosity in the action she proposes, prepares us 
for condoning in some slight degree the utter villainy of the king, 
since he is exasperated by Paulina's trumpet tongue. 

A prison. This is the headline which Pope first gave. Capell 
prefers '* Outer room of a prison/'' Perhaps we are to imagine 
Paulina as at the prison gate and Emilia inside the prison: in 1. 55 
Emilia asks Paulina to come something nearer, and Furness says 
the only explanation he can find for this sentence is that Emilia is 
asking Paulina to enter or come further within the prison. 



Scene Three] NOTES 131 

7. Paulina's impetuosity was well-known, and her action in this 
business anticipated. Hence her entry has been expressly for- 
bidden. 

20. passes colouring. *' Outdoes all the arts of painting." 
(Herford). 

23. on. "As a result of." 

44. free, that is, freely-offered. 

49. hammefd of. Was shaping (with the metaphor of forging) 
or kept on urging (with the more obvious metaphor of the repeated 
strokes of the hammer). 

50. tempt. Perhaps in addition to meaning "to solicit" the 
word here has a suggestion of its derivative "attempt." Hence 
" venture to solicit." 

67. to pass it, i. e. by letting it pass. 

58 ff. The scene here offers scope for an element in great favour 
with the writers both of the Greek and the English Romances — 
legal argumentation and casuistry. But Shakespeare does not give 
us too much. 

SCENE 3. 

This scene contributes to the plot the planning of the casting 
away of Perdita. The problem immediately before Shakespeare 
is to bring the monstrous inhumanity of this within the range of 
human possibility: and this he does by a succession of suggestions 
and devices the general tone of which is exemphfied by the indirect 
and semi-pathetic appeal of the first line: the inhuman madman is 
beyond our sympathy, but the sleepless sufferer may extort it. 

A room in Leontes' Palace. As usual, the Ff simply number 
this scene, without localising it. Pope headed it The Palace. 

4-7. for the harlot king . . . hook to me. Leontes is in wild tor- 
ment and passion, and his language is as befits, highly metaphori- 
cal. The meaning of the first metaphor " quite beyond my arm" 
is obvious. The second "out of the blank and level of my brain, 
plot-proof " alludes to the white centre of the target (blank) and to 
the course of the missile (level); Polixenes is beyond the reach of 
the missiles of Leontes' brain, his plots. The third, " I can hook 
to me," recalls the grappling irons by which an attacking vessel 
hooked itself to its foe. 

12-17. Leontes' attribution of the cause of the illness of Maniil- 
lius to a nobleness of nature languishing for his mother's crime 
serves in some small measure to redeem Leontes in our esteem: 



132 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Two 

he has some conceptions of nobleness. And on the other hand, 
the real cause of the illness adds to the pathos of Hermione's 
innocence. 

18. him, i. e. Polixenes. He cannot drive Polixenes' image from 
his mind, but is haunted by it and goaded to fury. 

23-24. We realise the intensity of the physical torment and in- 
sane self-torture Leontes is inflicting on himself. 

30. free, i. e. free from the crime of which Leontes in his jealousy 
has accused her. 

41. gossips. This word is used in its common Elizabethan 
meaning, "sponsors for the baptismal ceremony." But its mod- 
ern meaning was coming into use in Shakespeare's days: its gen- 
esis is given by C. T. Onions — *' gossip, applied to a woman's 
female friends invited to be present at a birth, (hence) tattling or 
gossiping woman ": cf. Tittis Andronicus, iii. 1. 9. "long-tongu'd 
gossip." 

42-44. This shows us the worser side of Leontes, his insane 
prejudice. Despite the fact that he continually appeals to us to be 
considered just, yet constitutionally he is a tyrant who deliberately 
refuses to hear the opposite side. 

49. commit. The word is used here in its legal sense, "imprison." 

53-55. profess . . . dare. The Ff read professes and dares, 
such usage being a not uncommon irregularity in Shakespeare. 
But most editors from Rowe onwards have altered the verb to the 
regular grammatical form. 

56. comforting, in the legal sense, "abetting, countenancing." 

57. Than such as most seem yours. Than those persons who 
most seem to be your loyal servants. 

58-60. Paulina in her zest for the queen tactlessly and impetu- 
ously stresses and repeats "good" five times in three lines — just 
the very word the king had found exasperating before. 

67. mankind. Masculine, fierce, bold : cf. Beaumont and 
Fletcher, Monsieur Thomas, iv. 4, " Twas a sound knock she gave 
me; the mankind girl." (Theobald). 

68. intelligencing, in a special sense, " playing the go-between, 
pandaring." 

74. woman-tired, henpecked. Dyce's Glossary gives tire as a 
term of falconry applied to birds of prey and meaning "to pull, to 
tear, to seize eagerly. " 

unroosted, that is, knocked from your roost. 

75. dame Partlet. This is the name of the hen in Chaucer's 
Nonnes Presies Tale. 



Scene Three] NOTES 133 

78. by that forced baseness. In obedience to a command in 
which words are so distorted that she is called bastard. 

85-86. slander . . . sword's, Cf. Cymheline^iii, 4. 35: *' slander 
whose edge is sharper than the sword." 

96. the old proverb, Staunton quotes this old proverb from 
Overbury's Characters: "the devill calls him his white Sonne) he 
is so like him, that hee is the worse for it and hee takes after his 
father." 

100. trick, in the sense of " peculiar or characteristic expres- 
sion. " 

106. yellow, L e, the colour of jealousy. In the Merry Wives^ i. 
3. 109, to avenge himself on Falstaif, Nym says — referring to 
Page— '* I will possess him with yellowness," i, e. with jealousy. 

108. lozel. Rogue. Etymologically, " one who has lost his own 
good and welfare," since the root is the same as that of the verb 
** to lose." 

121 fif. It is remarkable how throughout the play Leontes re- 
gards his actions as prompted by justice. The fact that they are 
not secures him our opprobrium: but the conviction that he thinks 
they are drags forth something of our sympathies. 

127. What needs these hands. This is spoken to Antigonus, 
who is pushing Paulina from the room. 

139. proper, L e. own. 

145 ff. When carried away by passion Leontes will hear noth- 
ing : it was in such mood that his blackest deeds were committed. 
And yet, tactfully treated, he is amenable, even if grudgingly so : 
he bends somewhat at the appeal of his courtiers. Again it is the 
humanising touch of Shakespeare, bringing into view the natural 
reluctances and half-relentings. 

160. Lady Margery, A contemptuous word for a woman. 

162. this. The reference is to Antigonus. Leontes was too 
young to have a grey beard. 

170. fail. This is the usual earlier form of the modern failure, 
which Shakespeare never uses. 

178. it own. Shakespeare seldom uses its, though we have 
already had it three times in Act I of this play. The regular pos- 
sessive case of it was his. But in the early seventeenth century hi^ 
was gradually dropping out of use, and was to be replaced later by 
its ; before this final replacement was usual, hov/ever, the use of 
intermediate forms like it, it own, ifs, was very common. See 
Abbott, §§ 217, 22H, 

182, strangely, as of foreign birth (Polixenes being a foreigner). 



134 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

189-190. be prosperous . . . require. "Enjoy more prosperity 
than such a deed as this entitles you to." 

192-193. Once more we realise the torment of Leontes — he is 
haunted by the image of Polixenes, which is ever present in his 
thoughts and his dreams — *' another's issue." 

198. beyond account, " Beyond any of which we have ac- 
count, unprecedented " (Furness). 

ACT III — SCENE 1 

This scene is introduced for dramatic relief, a breath of *' air 
most sweet " to relieve the murky atmosphere we have been breath- 
ing and are still to breathe. Moreover its reference to the gravity 
and reverence of the priests lends a dignity and a conviction to 
the oracle and its revelation as something ** ceremonious, solemn, 
and unearthly." It gives just the proper atmosphere for what is 
to follow — the justification of Hermione. Perhaps the suggestion 
for the scene is contained in Greene's remark that the embassy to 
the oracle *' despatched their affairs with speed " because they were 
*' desirous to see the situation and custom of the island." 

A Seaport in Sicilia, In conformity with their usual practice, 
the Ff do not denote the locality of this scene. The Cambridge 
Editors gave the headline, **^ Seaport in Sicilia.''' But Koppel 
(Shakespere Jahrbuch, ix. 289) rejects this ; following a note of 
Theobald's, he conceives of Cleomenes and Dion as being on the 
journey from the sea-coast to the Court. In the last act (ii. 3. 193- 
196) we heard that Cleomenes and Dion are landed and are hasting 
to the Court : in this scene (21) Dion calls for fresh horses^ to en- 
able them to hasten over the last stage of their journey. HaUiwell, 
on the other hand, thinks that Cleomenes and Dion have not yet 
left Greece ; and Furness says that a strong argument for this is 
that in the very first line of Cleomenes' speech he says, *' The 
climate '6* delicate," not "The cUmate was delicate." This, how- 
ever, does not appear to prove anything : Cleomenes is stating a 
general proposition which holds good independently of time. 

2. the isle. See Note to ii. 1. 183. 

14. The time is worth the use on *L The time has been well 
spent. Singer illustrates this saying by quoting from Florio's 
Montaigne^ " The time we live is worth the money we pay for it.'* 

17. carriage, i. e. carrying-out, execution: cf. Troilus and Cres" 
sida, ii. 3. 141, "The . . . whole carriage of this action." 

19. divine. The priest who officiated at the oracle. 



Scene Two] NOTES 135 



SCENE <2 

Trial scenes were greatly favoured by the Romance writers, since 
they offered great scope for rhetoric and casuistry. But Shake- 
speare, whilst enhancing the dramaturgic value of the scene, adds 
to its dramatic value by limiting the oratory and using it as the im- 
plement of the revelation of character. He makes it move swiftly 
and by the striking incidents of the vindication of Hermione by the 
oracle, the news of her son's death, and her own apparent death, 
he gives place for the rapid conversion of Leontes. 

A Court of Justice, To the merely numerical headline of the 
Ff. Theobald added the note, Scene represents a Court of 
Justice, 

4-5. Leontes is haunted by the fear of being considered tyran- 
nous: and this surely is one touch of nature which secures for him 
some little of our regard. 

10. Silence, F 1 prints this in italics as if it were a stage direc- 
tion: Ff 2, 3, 4 attach it to Enter Hermione, Rowe first incorpora- 
ted it within the text. 

18. pretence, in the sense of "purpose, intention": cf. Mac- 
beth^ ii. 3. 138, " and thence against the undivulged pretence I fight 
of treasonous malice." 

29. But thus, "But as I have to speak, this is what I say." 
(Deighton). Unhke Bellaria in Pandosto, Hermione is not eager 
to defend herself in public examination. 

36. which, i, e, my unhappiness. 

43-44. For life , , , spare, " ' Life ' is to me now only 'grief,' 
and as such only is considered by me: I would therefore willingly 
dismiss it." (Johnson.) 

50-51. With what , , , thus. By what objectionable (uncurrent) 
manner of behaviour (encounter) have I so exceeded propriety 
(strained), that I must be thus arraigned. 

55 flf. Notice how Leontes appeals to proverbial generalities and 
common beliefs. This is not only an indication of his character: 
it has a peculiar dramatic value in that the truisms add a semblance 
of truth to his side of the case, indeed they might almost be re- 
garded as vindications by appeal to mob-law and the opinions of 
the groundlings. It is another of Shakespeare's ways of securing 
a modicum of dramatic sympathy for his villains. 

56-57. wanted less. This, a connuon Elizabethan construc- 
tion, is an implicit double negative, which, hov/cver, in their usage 



136 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

is not an affirmative. Modern usage would demand *' wanted {i. e. 
lacked) moreJ*'* 

60-62. Leontes had accused Hermione of ** bolder vices." 
She admits failings which come to her in the name of faults, but 
nothing so enormous as adultery. The passage may be inter- 
preted, *' I must not at all acknowledge faults more than I am 
really possessed oi {mistress of).^"* 

82. in the level of. Most commentators, following Johnson, 
explain this as *' a metaphor from archer}%" "to be within the 
reach of," and hence " at the mercy of." But Furness would re- 
gard in as on, and would interpret *' My life — the actions you 
impute to me — and your dreams are on a level." He regards 
this meaning as being confirmed by the intense scorn with which 
Leontes repeats almost her very words — "your actions are my 
dreams ! I dream" d you had a bastard ! " 

86. fact. In a common Elizabethan sense of the word, " crime." 

87. Which to deny concerns more than avails. " The denial 
of it is more a matter of trouble than of help, since your conviction 
is determined." And Leontes, with such arrant prejudices, strives 
to obtain our approbation for his justice ! 

88. like to itself, "like a fatherless brat such as it is, ought 
to be." 

94. commodity, i. e. thing of pleasure (because convenient or 
fitting). 

100. starred. By obvious metaphor, " fated." 

101. it. See note to ii. 3, 178. 

102. post. This refers to the public boards and posts on which 
notices, proclamations, etc., were affixed. 

103. immodest. This is used in the sense of " immoderate," 
hence "excessive." 

107. strength of limit. That is, normal strength, the acquire- 
ment of which demands a prescribed period of rest after confine- 
ment. Shakespeare uses limit several times in the sense of a 
prescribed period : cf. Richard III, iii. 3. 7, " The limit of your 
lives is out." 

110. no life. This seemed unintelligible to the earlier commen- 
tators, who proposed many emendations. Thus Hanmer " no ! 
life," CoHier "No : life." But with Furness's note, these are seen 
to be unnecessary. " With line 109, Hermione ends her defence 
by commanding the trial to proceed. Then the thought of a 
sullied name flashes upon her, and that she has not with sufficient 
emphasis contended for the preservation of her honour : she hastily 



Scene Two] NOTES 137 

resumes, but fearing lest the King should misinterpret and suppose 
that it is to plead for life and not for what was, for her boy's sake, 
infinitely dearer to her, she exclaims ' Mistake me not ! No life ! 
Give me not that ! I prize it not a straw ! ' " 

115, 'T is rigour and not law. This phrase is borrowed verba- 
tim from Pandosto. Indeed, Shakespeare's version of the trial 
scene is very similar in thought and, at places, in expression to the 
parallel scene in Pandosto. 

120. The Emperor of Russia was my father. In Greene, the 
Emperor of Russia is father to the wife of Egistus ( = Polixenes) 
and not to Bellaria ( = Hermione). But the mention of her father 
by Hermione at this point is a fine touch of Shakespeare's art, 
giving a sense of majesty and pathos. The ** eyes of pity " add to 
the gentleness of Hermione, the mere suggestion, though a nega- 
tive one, of revenge adds to the awful impressiveness of the scene. 

123. flatness. Professor Moorman renders this justly " abject- 
ness. " 

136. the king shall live, etc. Only in the 1588 edition of 
Pandosto do we read "the King shall live without an heire ": in 
later editions the phrase runs *' the king shall die without an 
heire." Presumably then, Shakespeare used the 1588 edition. 

139, 141 ff. From these words we realise the intensity of Leontes' 
conviction of his wife's guilt : he defies the oracle on the strength 
of it. 

145. by mere conceit. By the mere imagination of the queen's 
fate. 

146. speed. Here used in the common Elizabethan sense, 
''fortune, hap." 

169. The word certain may have dropped out before hazard in 
this fine. Only with the substitution of a two-syllabled word is the 
line metrically complete. 

171. No richer than his honour. That is, " with no riches but 
his honour." 

187. of a fool, i. e. in thy capacity of fool. 

188. damnable. The more regular form would be the adverbial 
damnably, 

210. stir. In the sense of " shift, remove." 

213. still, i. e. continuously, ever. 

226. At my petition. This refers to 1. 209-210 ** therefore be- 
take thee to nothing but despair ! " 

241. recreation. Leontes means **the means of bringing me 
back to life and sanity ! '* 



138 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 



SCENE 3 

This scene marks the end of the first part of the story, and ap- 
propriately opens with grim-looking skies. But it assures us of 
the ultimate rule of good, for the heavens frown on those who are 
but the instruments of evil and dole to them their deserts. Yet 
even these heavy matters are presented to us from a fresh and a 
jovial standpoint : we hear of them out of the mouth of a simple 
shepherd and his more simple son, the Clown. We know that it 
is a lucky day and that good deeds and joy are to come from it. 

Bohemia. A desert country near the sea. To the mere SccBna 
Tertia of the Ff Rowe added A desert Count'ry : the Sea at a little 
distance, and Pope heads this scene Scene changes to Bohemia, 

Enter Antigonus, By creating Antigonus, Shakespeare is en- 
abled to make Perdita's coming to Bohemia a thing designed and 
not merely fortuitous as it is in Greene. See Introduction, 2, 

2. The deserts of Bohemia. In Pandosto, Greene speaks of 
the '* sea-coast of Bohemia " : and like him, Shakespeare extends 
his Bohemia up to the sea, whereas the historical and authentic 
Bohemia has no coast. But the Bohemia of The Winter's Tale is 
Shakespeare's Romantic Bohemia which can have as much sea- 
coast as he chooses to give it. In the same way, his Rome, his 
Padua, and his Milan are all sea-ports. 

21. vessel. The metaphor by which this word stands for 
*' creature, person " is apparent from thejiird of the next line. 

22. and so becoming. It seems best to interpret this as " and 
one to whom sorrow was so becoming " : and with this interpreta- 
tion we must regard becoming as having no definite connection with 
fiird. Many commentators have thought that the becoming is a 
compositor's error for some word which is connected in sense and 
metaphor with the word filVd. Collier suggested o''er-running, 
Daniel, o''er-brimming. Professor Moorman suggests beteeming, 
** to beteem " meaning " to pour all about " : he illustrates by 
quoting T. Adams' Gener. Serp. (1618), *' These beteem their poi- 
son to the overthrow of all," and also A Midsummer JVighfs Dream, 
i. 1. 131. 

" Belike for want of rain, which I could well 
Beteem them from the tempest of mine eyes." 

But there does not seem sufficient reason for altering the text of 
the Ff : becoming is perfectly appropriate, expressing the seemli- 



Scene Three] NOTES 139 

ness of the whole of the visionary Hermione's appearance. And, 
moreover, after first giving this general or summary description, 
Antigonus then naturally proceeds to enumerate particular details 
of Hermione's appearance and actions, specifying as one of thera 
the fact that '*her eyes became two spouts." 

47. thy character, i. e. the written description (by which Perdita 
was afterwards identified). 

47. these. This refers to the 'gold, ornaments, and clothes 
which were left with Perdita. 

48. breed thee. Supply the cost of thy rearing. 

49. And still rest thine. Probably this means " and yet not be 
all spent," i, e. if fortune please, the gold, etc., may be sufficient 
for Perdita's upbringing, and to spare. 

51. to loss, i. e. of parents and home, as well as to death. 

66. A savage clamour. Antigonus hears the hounds and the 
bear, and so has a reason in addition to the coming of the storm 
for hastening aboard. 

58. Exit, pursued by a bear. Antigonus is not disposed of 
altogether in '* the most unprincipled and reckless fashion," Sir 
Walter Raleigh would have us believe. We must admit that the 
main reason for thus killing him is the fact that he had fulfilled 
the dramatic function for which he was created, and so was of no 
further use to Shakespeare. But that is not the full tale. Antigo- 
nus's death has some symbolical propriety, since he believed Her- 
mione to be guilty (44-46), and we are reminded (34-36) that he 
suffers for his share in the " ungentle business." Dramatically his 
death was necessary. By it, we know on whose side the gods are; 
and it prevents the improbability of Paulina's preservation of Her- 
mione unknown to her husband and the court by making her a 
widow and offering her appropriate seclusion. 

Enter a Shepherd. With this entry the atmosphere is cleared 
at once : the humour and the simple rusticity give us a foretaste of 
what is to come. 

63. browzing of ivy. Like Greene, Shakespeare gives the 
shepherd a purpose in being on the shore. 

70. barne. The word for '' child " is now only preserved in dia- 
lects, as the Scottish " bairn " and the North of England ** barn." 

70. child. A writer in Notes and Queries (April 22, 1876) says 
that this use of the word child for a ** girl " still obtained in Shrop- 
shire : *' is it a lad or a child " ? But probably this sense of the 
word was becoming obsolete in Shakespeare's day : for as Pro- 
fessor Moorman points out, although the New Eng. Diet, asserts 



140 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Three 

that Shakespeare never uses the phrase my child when the refer- 
ence is to a son, but frequently when it is to a daughter, yet in this 
very play Mamillius is called by Camillo *' a gallant child." It 
looks as if Shakespeare was deliberately making the language of 
his Shepherd old-fashion«d. 

96. land-service. Strictly speaking, this is a military term 
expressing service on land as opposed to that on the sea. It is the 
clown's humorous way of describing what has happened on land 
just after he has told what has happened at sea. 

100. flap-dragoned, i. e. swallowed as one swallows a flap- 
dragon, that is, at one gulp. According to Johnson a flap-dragon 
is a '* small combustible body, fired at one end, and put afloat in 
a glass of liquor " : apparently the sport consists in swallowing this 
at one gulp. In the Christmas game of " snap-dragon " a raisin is 
snapped from a glass of burning brandy. The two amusements 
seem to be varieties of one. At all events, the Clown's allusion is 
apt, and his meaning clear. Incidentally his fondness for these 
prandial metaphors is worthy of note. 

119. hearing-cloth. This is the garment which a child wore at 
the baptismal ceremony. 

124. made. The Ff all read *'mad." Made is Theobald's 
emendation, convincing both by its sense and by reference to Pan- 
dosto — *' the good old man desired his wife to be quiet; if she 
would hold her peace, they were made forever " — for that Shake- 
speare had this passage in mind is clear by 1. 123, " and to be 
so still, requires nothing but secrecy." 

125. well to live. This is analogous to our phrase ** well to do," 
well off. 

130. still, i. e. always. 

135. curst. Savage : cf. 3Iuch Ado^ ii. 1. 25, ** God sends a 
curst cow short horns. " 

ACT 4 — SCENE 1 

This scene is a somewhat clumsy device for drawing attention to 
the interval of sixteen years between the events of the first three 
acts and those of the last two. It could be removed without loss to 
the drama. Some commentators regard it as not by Shakespeare — 
but as an addition by some producer of the play. However, while 
seeing nothing in its intrinsic worth to establish it as Shakespeare's, 
we see nothing decisively against its authenticity. And there are 
two presumptions in its favour. In the first place, Shakespeare 



Scene One] NOTES 141 

is notoriously careless of plot-technique in matters of this kind : 
and in the second (as Lueders points out, Sh. Jahrhuch, 1870, v. 
p. 282) '* the idea of thus introducing time [is] presumably derived 
from the title of Greene's novel, vi^hich is Pandosto, or the Triumph 
of Time . . . wherein is discovered that, although by means of 
sinister fortune. Truth may be concealed, yet by Time in spite of 
fortune, it is most manifestly revealed." 

From Theobald onwards many editors have regarded this scene 
as an interlude ; they begin the numbering of the scenes of Act iv 
with the next scene (in this edition, as in the Ff, Scene 2) which 
they label Scene 1, 

2. makes and unfolds. The regular form of this, since it is 
first person, would be make and unfold: but such irregular use is 
common in Shakespeare. Time may be said to make error in the 
sense that it causes misunderstandings, which misunderstandings 
are in their turn, removed by Time, and thus error is unfolded, 

6. leave the growth untried, " Inquire not what has grown in 
the interval " (Herford). 

8, self -horn. There is no point in reading any more into this 
than '* one and the self-same.'''' The self-horn simply cuts off that 
hour from other hours by accentuating its completeness; '*in one 
disconnected hour," *' in one hour and no more," or " in one and 
the self-same hour." Professor Herford explains ** self-born" as 
" self-begotten, i. e. the issue of Time." This interpretation adds 
to the idea of Time's autocratic quality, his imperious power to 
" o'erthrow law," by insisting on his power to beget himself in suc- 
cession solely by himself. But the former interpretation seems 
better. It throws emphasis on the absoluteness of Time's authority 
" to plant and o'er-throw " indiscriminately in the same moment. 
The force of Time's plea that his passing over sixteen years sud- 
denly shall not be imputed to him as a crime is this very fact: he 
pleads that he has the power to overthrow his own law by sudden 
revolution. 

9-10. Let me pass . . . received, ** Let me pass rapidlj^ over 
years now with that same authority to overthrow law which I had 
in the past and have yet." The particular law he will overthrow is 
that of the regular succession of time in equal periods : he will 
break down the interval of the progress of past to present, and 
present to future. Time's words, with their use of am for was (10), 
are an outward sign that the distinction of past and present is 
broken down by him. In the same way witness (11) is used in the 
present tense instead of in the past. Capell recognised that it re- 



142 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

ferred to past time, and so substituted witnessed : and Fumess re- 
marks that Capell's suggestion is extremely plausible, since ''the 
d was present to the ear of the compositor in the t of to. " But it 
seems to us, that as in 1. 10, so here again by a somewhat fanciful 
device the present tense is used as an apparent sign that the dis- 
tinction between past and present is broken down by Time himself. 

15. seems, sc. seems stale. 

24-25. now grown in grace Equal with wondering, i. e. " who 
has acquired grace equal to the admiring amazement it excites." 

27-28. daughter . . . after. In The Taming of the Shrew, i. 1. 
244-3, we have the same rime. Was daughter pronounced *' dafter," 
or after '' 8iuter''? In King Lear, i. 4. 312, etc.. daughter' rimes 
with caught her and slaughter : and in Sylvester's Du Bartas, here- 
after rimes with icater. But on the other hand daughter in some 
modern dialects is pronounced ** dafter," and Professor Moorman 
points out that in Isaac Walton's will (1683) the actual spelling is 
dafter and gra'iiddafter, 

SCENE 9 

The second part of the plot is joined to the first by presenting 
us first, not with new characters, but with those we knew in the 
past, Polixenes and Camilio. And we are made to know at once 
that the mellowing of years has brought the desire for home ties, 
and has produced a penitence which bodes w^ell for the ultimate 
reunion of broken bonds. 

Bohemia, The Palace of Polixenes, See note on the number- 
ing of the preceding scene. Theobald headed this scene. Act iv. 
Sc. 1, The Court of Bohemia ; and Capell, A Room in Polixenes' 
Palace. 

6. been aired abroad, i. e. lived abroad. 

8. feeling. Heart-felt. 

22. the heaping friendships. The heaping up of offices of 
friendship. 

27. are. * ' Loss " is the grammatical subject, but the verb agrees 
irregularly with '^ queen and children,^'' 

31. approved. Given proof of. 

40^1. / have eyes , , , removedness. Servants of mine are 
spying on him in his retreats. 

52. angle. Metaphorically, attraction, bait 



Scene Three] NOTES 143 



SCENE 3 

In the last scene we noted a change from the murky atmosphere 
of tempestuous raving to the sweeter breath of memory and realised 
goodness. Now the change is still more apparent. The scene 
opens with a song which brings at once the joyful air of spring and 
the freshness and irresponsibiUty of rustic life : whilst the song at 
the end of the scene is a fit prelude to the incoming of Perdita 
immediately after. 

A road near the Shepherd's Cottage. This is Malone's head- 
line. The Ff. have nothing but the number ; Pope suggested The 
CounU^y and Capell, Fields near the Shepherd's, 

1. peer, L e, appear. 

2. doxy, A cant term for a loose woman ; cf . Cotgrave 
" Gueuse : f. A woman beggar, a she rogue, a great lazie and 
louzie queene ; a Doxie or Mort. " 

4. pale. This may be taken in two senses. Either (1) pallor, as 
in Venus and Adonis 589, *'a sudden pale . . . Usurps her 
cheeks." In this sense we may interpret the hne, " In spring the 
red blood vanquishes the pallor of winter." Or (2) enclosure, fenced 
area, for which sense, cf. Henry V. Chorus, 9, 10, " Behold, the 
English beach Pales in the flood with men, with wives and boys.'" 
In this sense the line would mean " In spring the red blood rules 
where winter formerly ruled." 

7. pugging -tooth. Perhaps this is a variant oi pug-toothy mean- 
ing '* eye-tooth." But, like sweet-tooth, it acquires a derived 
sense: pugging seems to have come to mean " thievish ": cf. the 
word puggards^ for '* thieves," in Middleton's Roaring Girl, v. 1. 

11. aunts. This is another cant term for light women. 

14. three-pile, i, e. three-pile velvet — velvet with a specially 
fine finish. 

23-4. When the kite , , , linen, "When the kite is collecting 
material for its nest, keep an eye on your lesser linen articles : 
when I am about * to feather my nest,' keep your eye on your 
sheets." In The Ornithology of Shakespeare, Harting tells of a 
kite's nest he found in Huntingdonshire, which was lined **with 
small pieces of linen, part of a saddle-girth, a bit of a harvest glove, 
part of a straw-bonnet, pieces of paper and a worsted garter." 

24. Autolycus, In Greek myth, he is the son of Hermes (or 
Mercury), and like his father is renowned as a skilful thief. 



144 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

27. die and drab. Dice and loose women. He means "with 
garaing and women I came to these rags." 

28. silly cheat. Either Autolycus is referring to the act of 
cheating, in which case silli/ cheat is another phrase for the snap- 
ping up of unconsidered trifles: or bj^ sillj/ cheat he refers to the 
fools who are cheated and defrauded of trifles. 

28-30. Gallows , , . terrors to me, '* A highwayman's life is 
too much in danger of the gallows or at least is too certain to involve 
hard blows in encounters for me to undertake it." 

33. tods. This is of course a verb, meaning "produces a tod." 
A tod is twenty -eight pounds weight of wool. Stafford's Briefs 
Conceipte of English Policy (1581) tells us that a tod of wool was 
worth from twenty to twenty-two shillings, or in the Clown's words, 
"pound and odd shilling." 

36. cock, I. e. a woodcock : and hence the obvious metaphorical 
sense, " one easily caught," " a fool." 

38. counters. He refers to imitation coins used to assist in 
reckoning. 

41. what will this sister of mine do with rice? This sly ques- 
tion after the mention of rice may have been suggested by the 
Clown's recalling the practice of throwing rice at married couples 
as they come out of church after the wedding ceremony : for, of 
course, he had seen much of Florizel lately. 

44. three-man song-men all, i. e. all able to sing catches and 
rounds. The word three-man seems to be a corruption of " free- 
man," caused by the fact that catches were most commonly in three 
parts, trios: cf. Hooker's Life of Careio (1575), "The King would 
very often use him to sing with him certain songs then called fire- 
men songs, as namely * By the bank as I lay.' " 

46. means. The Elizabethan word for tenors. 

47. sings psalms to hornpipes. Sings psalms to lively tunes 
suitable for a merry dance like the hornpipe. Douce says that 
Puritans did this sort of thing to burlesque the plain chant of the 
Catholics. 

49. that's out of my note. That doesn't come among the 
things I have to note and procure. 

52. raisins o' the sun. Sun-dried (as opposed to artificially- 
dried) raisins. 

54. me — . This is probably an incompleted mercy : or perhaps, 
as Herford explains, the full phrase is complete, being " a vulgar 
oath of the type of ' Body o' me. ' " 

92. iroll-my-dames. This is a game in which balls were 



Scene Four] NOTES 145 

" trolled " {i. e. rolled) through arches fixed on a board. The word 
is a corruption of the French *' trou-raadame." 

99. abide. We may take this in the sense of " barely and with 
difficulty remain " (Staunton). But it seems better to regard it as 
an instance of a habit Shakespeare is fond of attributing to his 
clowns, namely, a use of words they do not understand with the 
consequence of the production of nonsense : Dogberry is always 
doing it, and in this play the Clown talks of very pleasant ballads 
sung lamentably, much as Quince talks of " very tragical mirth." 

101. ape-bearer. One who goes round the country with 
monkeys for show. 

103. compassed a motion of the Prodigal son, i. e. acquired 
a puppet-show in which the Prodigal Son was performed. These 
puppet shows depicting biblical scenes were the last survivals of 
the old Miracle Plays, and must have been common in Shakespeare's 
day: cf. The Two Gentlemen of Verona, ii. 1. 104, "0 excellent 
motion ! O exceeding puppet." 

109. Bear-baiting was one of the brutal sports of Elizabethan and 
later England. Dryden thus satirises his countrymen : 

" Bold Britons at a brave Bear-Garden fray 
Are roused : and, clattering sticks , cry — Play, play, play ! 
Meantime your filthy foreigner will stare 
And mutters to himself * Ha ! gent harhare! ' 
And, gad, 'tis well he mutters; well for him; 
Our butchers else would tear him limb from limb." 

Epilogue to Aureng-Zebe. 

130. unrolled, i, e. struck oif the rolls of his " profession," that 
of thieves, wanderers, and beggars. 

132. Jog on, jog on, etc. Both the tune and the words of this 
song were very popular. The song is an old folk-song which is 
found reprinted with two additional stanzas in a collection of songs 
called An Antidote against Melancholy (1661). The tune, or at 
least a tune with this title, is found in the 1650 edition of The 
Dancing Master as well as in Pills to Purge Melancholy (1707). 

SCENE 4 

This long scene is of the very stuff of Romance ; it includes 
almost every element the Romancers loved, and with a predomi- 
nant idyllic tone, yet contrives to be packed with many varied 
appeals : there is the purely idyllic, there is philosophy, there is 



146 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

humour, there is dancing and feasting and merrymaking, there is 
love-making, and there is the sterner note of possible tragedy. No- 
where is the essential romance quality of jostUng tragedy and idyll 
so apparent as in the highly dramatic culmination, '' Mark our con- 
tract."—'* Mark your divorce, young sir." But the whole scene is 
stamped with the most exquisite beauty : for by reason of the dra- 
matic economy and the greater consideration for the main plot, 
Shakespeare is constrained to put into it almost the whole of the 
Perdita-Florizel plot ; and this is nothing but beauty and charm. 

The Shepherd's Cottage, To the Ff s numbering of this scene, 
Scena Quarta^ Theobald added The Prospect of a Shepherd's Cotte ; 
Hanmer, The old Shepherd's House /and Capell, A Boom in the 
Shepherd's House. 

6. extremes. Perdita has in mind the " extravagancies " both 
of Florizel's praise of her and of his actions in disguising himself as 
a shepherd. 

8. mark o' the land, *' The object of the nation's pride and 
hope " (Clarke). 

11. mess, i. e. dish. The whole sentence is to be taken not 
only literally (in reference to the eating part of the feast), but also 
metaphorically (in reference to the antics and mummeries con- 
nected with it). 

12. with a custom. From habit. 

13-14. sworn, , , . glass. Probably sworn refers to Florizel, 
who, says Perdita, by the fact of his being dressed as a swain, 
seems as though sworn to show her herself in a glass, to show her 
as she really is, a shepherd's girl : and still further, by his taking 
the dress of a person beneath himself, to point out by contrast her 
apparent pride in being goddess-like pranked up. The commenta- 
tors find it difficult to see how " sworn " is appropriate. But the 
whole point of Perdita's speech is that she is imagining for the 
moment that FlorizeFs action is deliberately to show herself a glass : 
(of course she does not suggest that it is so at all, but it is part of 
the grace in her, her consciousness of the falseness of her own 
appearance, that she feels that it would be fitting for him, a 
bounden duty, to do so consciously) and so sworn, suggesting de- 
liberate prearranged action and recognition of bounden duty, is 
truly appropriate. Those editors who do not find it appropriate 
have suggested various emendations : Hanmer, Capell, and Dyce 
read ** swoon"; Collier, ** so worn"; Mitford, "scorn." Theo- 
bald suggested an alteration of the whole passage to *' swoon, I 
think, to see myself i' the glass." But no alteration is necessary ; 



Scene Four] NOTES 147 

and moreover, to make Perditatalk of possible " swooning," either 
actual or metaphorical, is radically to profane her character. 

17. difference, sc. of rank. 

18-24. How exquisitely she seems to assume all blame on her- 
self, as if she, and only she, were in an unjustifiable position, and 
not at all the king with all the sternness of his presence. 

22. bound up. The metaphor is from book-binding, as in 
Romeo and Juliet^ i. 3. 87: " This precious book of love, this un- 
bound lover. " 

33. Nor in a way so chaste. Nor with so chaste a purpose. 

40. Or I my life. Most editors interpret this, *' or I must 
change my life for death." Furness objects to this interpretation: 
*' I doubt that her despondency went quite so far." He thinks she 
merely means that her present mode of life, "queening it" in 
courtship with a prince, will be changed to one of drudgery and 
weeping. But it is not so much despondency which she expresses 
if she says that death to her will be the result of the prince's main- 
taining his resolution when opposed by the power of the king: it is 
rather clear vision attested by later happenings, for when the king 
actually realised Florizel's opposition and resolution he did threaten 
death to Perdita (iv. 4. 435-440). And moreover the grace of 
Perdita is enhanced when we regard her — not as bemoaning her 
own sufferings to Florizel — but as merely stating a fact, namely, 
that he will be deprived of her and so will be caused pain. It is 
part of her charm that she is thinking solely of Florizel's feelings, 
and yet thinking of them with a clearness equal to her tenderness. 

41. forced, L e. far-fetched. 

65. unknown friends to 's, friends unknown to us. See Abbott, 
§ 419 a, on the transposition of adjectival phrases. 
76. remembrance. Cf. Hamlet, iv. 5. 180. 

" There 's rosemary, that 's for remembrance. 
There's rue for you; we may call it Herb of Grace." 

82. gUlyvors, This flower is the clove-scented pink. The mod- 
ern form ** gillyflower" is an example of *' popular etymology"; 
gillyvor is derived from Low Latin caryophyllum, which in French 
became girojle, and in Middle English gllofre by metathesis. 

83. bastards. Their name is appropriate because they are not a 
pure birth of nature, but an artificial production of the crossing of 
different species. 

87-8. There is an art . . . nature. Perdita is alluding to the 



148 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

artificial means by which man produces hybrid plants such as 
** streaked gilly vors." 

104. Hot, This is generally explained as ** aromatic/' but with- 
out clear reason. It seems more probable to interpret hot as 
"ardent," L e. lavender suitable for an ardent lover. Furness 
quotes an Elizabethan song to show that lavender was regarded as 
a suitable token for an ardent lover. Still, it is difficult to see how 
the apparently justifiable ardent lavender is suitable as a gift to 
CamiUo and Polixenes or to their followers, all "men of middle 
age." 

105. The marigold . . . sun. The adjectival phrase has caused 
many commentators to think that Shakespeare had the sunflower 
in mind. But the phrase holds true also of the flower still ordinarily 
called the marigold. 

116. Proserpina, Shakespeare is thinking of the legend of 
Proserpina as told by Ovid in his Metamorphoses^ book v. 398, etc. 
Ovid was a great favourite with Shakespeare, who read him in 
Golding's translation, as well perhaps as in the original. Golding's 
translation of that part of the legend which Shakespeare has in 
mind here, runs, 

** While in this garden Proserpine was taking her pastime. 
In gathering eyther Violets blew, or Lillies white as Lime, 
Dis spide her : loude hir : caught her up . . . 
The Ladie with a wailing voyce afright did often call . . . • 
And as she from the upper part hir garment would have rent. 
By chance she let hir lap slip downe, and out her flowers went.'* 

118. Dis's waggon, Pluto's chariot. 

119. take. See Note, i. 2. 4. 

120. dim. Perhaps violets are called dim in comparison with 
the brightness of golden daffodils : the idea is that they are of so 
subdued a colour that by the side of daffodils they are hardly seen. 

121. sweeter. This includes the twofold idea, more pleasing in 
appearance than the lids of Juno's eyes, and in perfume than 
C>i:herea's breath. 

123. unmarried. The image seems to have in it a suggestion of 
the sanctity and retiredness of a nunnery. The impression of the 
aloofness of the pale primrose from earthly things, is also expressed 
by Milton's '* rathe primrose that forsaken dies." 

126. The crown imperial. This is the yellow fritillary, '* which 
for its stately beautifulnesse deserveth the first place in this our 



Scene Four] NOTES 149 

garden of delight, to be entreated of before all other Lillies " 
(Parkinson, Paradisus 2'errestris), 

127. flower-de-luce. This is some sort of iris. 

133 etc. Perdita has none of the effusiveness of the general 
heroine of romance. This semi-apology for her rapturous con- 
fession of love adds as much dignity to her character as Hamlet s 
" Something too much of this " does to his. 

134. Whitsun pastorals, Furness states that he has not found 
any Pastoral Play peculiar to Whitsuntide. But in Henry F, ii. 4. 
25, we have reference to a *' Whitsun morris-dance " ; and we know 
that these dances also included mimicry if not regular acting : cf. 
The Two Gentlemen of Verona, iv. 4. 162, etc. 

" for at Pentecost, 
When all our pageants of delight were play'd 
... I did play a lamentable part : 
Madam, 't was Ariadne passioning 
For Theseus* perjury and unjust flight." 

In all probability most of these dance-plays, or more properly 
"pageants of delight," had a pastoral setting and theme, like 
Adam de la Halle's Le Jeu de Robin et Marian, 

143-6. each your doing . . . queens, **The whole sentence 
may be paraphrased : ' Your way of doing everything (so peculiarly 
your own in every particular) crowns what you are at present do- 
ing, so that all your acts are queens. ' " (Furness. ) 

148. ' peepeth, Ff 1 , 2 read peepes, Ff 3, 4, peeps, Peepeth is 
the emendation of the Globe editors to obviate the metrical diffi- 
culty of the Folio readings. Capell preserves peeps and inserts so 
before fairly : Rowe inserts forth in the same place. 

152. skill. The word here signifies ''reason": cf. Warner, 
Albion's England (1606). 

" Our Queene deceast conceald her heire, 
I wot not for what skill." 

160. look out. This is Theobald's emendation for the Folio 
reading look on 7. The sentence may be paraphrased in the words 
of Perdita herself: "her blood peeps fairly through in her 
blushes." 

163. in good time. This is equivalent to the French a la 
bonne heure, " that 's all right," " very well," mostly with an ironical 
suggestion. Of course it is so used by Mopsa, who is angry, and 
whose anger draws on her the Clown's rebuke in the next hne. 



150 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

180. The Romancers made great use of theatrical devices, espe- 
cially for the sake of creating an interest by dramatic suspense. 
Just as the proud and babbling old Shepherd is coming to the 
crux of his disclosure, Enter Servant, and the tale is thus put 
off. 

187. better, i. e. at a more suitable time, more opportunely. 

182. milliner. This trade — a haberdasher or dealer in fancy 
articles of dress — was a man's occupation in Elizabethan England. 

195. dildos and fadings. Dildo seems to be a meaningless tag, 
the origin of which we do not know: it was common in the refrain 
of ballads. Furness adds that dildo had also a coarse meaning. 
Fading, like dildo, was also a common ballad-tag. It is described 
by C. T. Onions {Shakespeare Glossary) as '* the refrain of an indeli- 
cate song." Gifford says: " This word, which was the burden of 
a popular Irish song, gave the name to a dance frequently noticed 
by our old dramatists. Both the song and the dance appear to 
have been of a licentious kind." In a catch (circa 1600) '*The 
Courtier scorns the country clowns," the last hne is " With a fad- 
ing, fading, fading, fading." 

198. break a foul gap into the matter. Make a gap in the 
continuity of the song by inserting hcentious patter in parenthesis. 

200. ''Whoop, do me no harm/' Like "Jump her, thump 
her," this is the refrain of at least one popular old ballad. Capell 
mentions this line as the refrain of a song in Fry's Ancient Poetry. 
All the songs and ballads alluded to in this scene are licentious: 
the servant's description, " so without bawdry," is, of course, part, 
of the joke, as Perdita realised, for she knew that it was highly 
necessary to *' forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's 
tunes." Her modesty is not of the passive sort, but is effectively 
active. 

204. unbraided. The New Eng. Diet, accepts Staunton's ren- 
dering of this word as *' unspoiled, unfaded, sterUng," and labels 
the word braided as obsolete in the contrary sense. Bailey's Dic- 
tionary (1791) has *' Braided, faded, that hath lost its colour." 

206. points. A play on the two meanings of the word, (1) 
laces with metal tags for supporting the hose, and (2) points in 
legal argument. 

217. You have of these pedlars, etc. **You have some of 
these pedlars, etc." The of is used in a partitive or genitival 
sense as in Hamlet, iii. 3. 37. *' There be of them that will them- 
selves laugh." 

221. Cypress. This seems to have been a transparent fabric of 



Scene Four] NOTES 151 

fine texture, very like crape. It was probably so called because 
originally such stuffs were imported from Cyprus. 

222. Gloves . . . roses. Gloves were often perfumed: cf. 
Iluch Ado, iii, 4. 62, "- These gloves . . . are in excellent per- 
fume." 

224. Bugle bracelet. This is a bracelet made of black~ glass 
beads. A bugle was a glass bead, generally black, made in the 
shape of a tube, so that it could be threaded onto points and laces 
to ornament dress: metaphorically it was used of things of a glis- 
tering blackness, as in As You Like It, iii. 5. 47, *' bugle eyeballs." 

228. poking 'Sticks, These were small rods, which, when 
heated, were used in stiffening or ironing the frills of ruifs. 

245. placket, i. e. petticoat, or perhaps the slit in a petticoat. 
The Clown asks if manners have so far left the girls that they ex- 
pose to view what ought to be covered up ? 

247. kiln-hole. This was the recess in which the fire-place and 
oven for the preparation of malt was built. 

250. clamour. This is obviously a verb ; its meaning is "to 
silence." It has no connection with the Latin clamor, which gives 
us our noun " clamour," but is from the Middle EngHsh clom, 
meaning *' silence," which in its turn is probably from Old English 
clom, "a fetter." 

253. tawdoy-lace. This was a popular sort of silk necktie " so 
called from St. Audrey (Etheldreda) who thought herself punished 
by a tumour in the throat for wearing rich necklaces." These 
neckties were sold especially at the fair held at Ely on St Audrey's 
day, October 17. 

sweet. See Note to 1. 222. 

261. of charge, i. e. of value. 

263. o' life. The Ff read a life. But with both readings the 
editors interpret the phrase as a mild rustic oath, ** on my life," 
'* by my life," '' as I live." 

268. carbonadoed. Cut into pieces for broiling: cf King Lear^ 
ii. 2. 21, *' draw, you rogue, or I '11 so carbonado your shanks", 
and Coriolanus, iv. 5. 199, " scotched him and notched him hke a 
carbonado." 

279. ballad of a fish. Autolycus and his ballads give us an 
insight into one aspect of provincial life in Elizabeth's days, when 
of course there were no regular newspapers. Striking incidents, 
murders, and prodigies were made the subject of ballads, and in 
this form were reported broadcast through the land: the ballad 
singer and seller was the newsagent of the time. In the Stationers 



152 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

Registers, anno 1604, we have the following entry, which Shake- 
speare seems to have had in his mind when telling us of the 
ballad of a fish: " The most true and strange report of A monstrous 
fishe that appeared in the forme of A woman from the wast up- 
ward Seene in the Sea." 

295. Two maids wooing a man. There is a song with this 
title, but the earhest version we have of it is the one Dr. Boyce 
put to music and pubUshed in 1759. 

316. sad, as usual, serious. 

329. meddler. This is from the verb ** meddle," meaning 
**to have connections with, to have a share in, to tamper with." 
Money is a meddler, says Autolycus, in the sense that it has a 
share in all men do, prompting them to all and in all their ex- 
changings and buyings and sellings. 

333. men of hair. Men dressed in skins, or having garments 
to imitate Satyrs. The servant^s description of the dancers as 
Saltiers is probably his rustic blunder for Satyrs. 

338. bowling. We know that the game of bowls was very 
popular in the days of Drake and Shakespeare. In this reference 
to it, the servant is metaphorically contrasting the easy, staid 
motion of ordinary dancing with the high-leaping and "jumps of 
twelve foot three " of the Satyrs. 

352. Here a dance of twelve Satyrs. For Professor Thorn- 
dyke's suggestion of the bearing of this on the date of the play, 
see Introduction I. 

352. O, father . . . hereafter. " Said in reply to something 
the Shepherd has asked him during the dance " (Mason). 

359. she, l e. lady. See Note to i. 2. 43-44. 

363. Interpretation should abuse, were to interpret wrongly. 

364. straited, put to it, reduced to straits. 

366. Of happy holding her, of keeping her happily. 

368. looks, sc. for ; " looks for," '* expects." 

370 etc. Florizel is somewhat sentimental ; his breathing of his 
life before the ancient sir, is soon *' put out" by a prosaic remark 
of the latter 's. 

374. fanned snow. Cf. Midsummer NigJifs Dream^ iii. 2. 141. 

" That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, 
Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow 
When thou hold's t up thy hand." 

377. was fair. Abbott (§ 244, on the omission of the relative) 
gives numerous instances of which this is one, in which the relative 



Scene Four] NOTES 153 

tends to be omitted where the antecedent immediately precedes 
the verb to which the relative would be subject : cf. Measure for 
Measure, ii. 2. 33, " I have a brother is condemned to die." 

388, Fairly offefd. If we regard Polixenes as knowing already 
what line of action he was to take, we cannot but regard this play- 
ing as cruel indiiFerence and harsh cynicism. But that would be 
unjust. Polixenes is obviously troubled at his son's actions, and 
obviously does not approve of some elements in them. Yet he is 
charmed by Perdita's presence, and his dallying with and encour- 
aging of the lovers is not deliberate cruelty. His harshness is 
drawn out later, and by something of which as yet there has been 
no sign. 

392. By the pattern, etc, Furness very appositely remarks : 
"A woman's simile ; just as Imogen exclaims, 

'Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion; 
And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls, 
I must be ripped — to pieces with me!'" 

The simile seems to breathe the very spirit of homely domesticity. 

409. altering rheums, C. T. Onions explains rheum as *'a 
morbid defluxion of humours (such as was supposed to cause rheu- 
matism)." Possibly altering, '* changing," merely intensifies the 
idea of the defluxion of the humours, and hence of the gravity of 
the rheum. Other editors interpret altering rheums as *' rheums 
altering the sufferer " ; and Professor Moorman explains altering 
as " weakening," quoting for comparison the French alt6rer. 

416. reason my son, etc. This is an elliptical expression for 
"it is reasonable that my son, etc." A similar ellipsis occurs in 
King John, v. 2. 120, " And reason, too, he should." 

Like Leontes, Polixenes himself is making a mess of things 
in the vital matter of the joy of a father and of fatherhood, 
'* all whose joy is nothing else but fair posterity." And the fact 
that Palixenes, of whose goodness we are assured, makes such, if a 
much less harsh mistake, does by its similarity and its contrast 
suggest a little possible extenuation in the case of Leontes. 

430. affects, Shakespeare cared more for sound than for gram- 
mar when the meaning was not obscured by the grammatical error : 
hence affects instead of **aifect'st." Furness quotes a parallel 
instance, Hamlet, i, 4. 53, ** That thou . . . Revisits thus the 
glimpses of the moon. " 

433. of force, perforce, needs. 



154. THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

434. copest with, hast to do with. 

435 etc. Polixenes' fury appears to be an intensified petulance 
into which he was goaded, not so much by the fact of Florizels 
courtship of Perdita, as by his refusal after entreaty to consult his 
father. Only thus is his conduct justifiable at all. 

441. Farre. This is the reading of Ff 1, 2,3. F 4 reads /ar. 
But farre is the regular form of the comparative of " far," though 
the Middle EngUsh spelling would be ferre (comparative offer = 
far) as it is in Chaucer's description of the travels of his Knight — 
"And thereto hadde he riden, no man ferre" (Prologue, Canter- 
bury Tales, 47). 

444. dead. This is altered by the Cambridge editors to 
'* dread ; " but the alteration is not necessary, as dead can bear the 
sense of '* fatal, mortal"; cf. Midsummer Night's Dream, iii. 2. 
57, " So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim." 

445. yea, him too . . . thee. " Yea, worthy too of him, who 
(if the honour of my family were not concerned) shows himself un- 
worthy of you " (Deighton). Florizel had deliberately deceived his 
father, and so, says Polixenes, was unworthy of Perdita. It is 
only when we remember how keenly Polixenes felt this that we 
can at all excuse his cruelty. 

451 etc. This is Perdita's great self-revealing speech. We may 
note in it: (1) her absolute self-assurance without conceit, for she 
mentions the sun and her cottage, not herself, when she is protest- 
ing against the indignity the King had thrown on her: (2) her 
utter unselfishness in immediately offering to release Florizel ; at 
the same time showing her clearer vision of the results of defiance; 
(3) her ready self-resignation and self-adaptation, *' I '11 queen it 
no inch farther." Yet the whole speech is pure woman and its 
charm is gathered to a head in the splendid pathos of the last 
line. 

456. alike, i. e. without distinction. 

459. queen it, i. e. play the queen, or affianced bride of the 
king to be. 

465. the bed my father died. '* In relative sentences the prep- 
osition is often not repeated," (Abbott, § 394). In this case both 
the relative and the preposition, upon which, are omitted: cf. ii. 1. 
133, above, *' In this which you accuse her." 

468. Where no . . . dust. That is, in unhallowed burial : it is 
prescribed in the rubric of the Liturgy of Edward VI (1549) that 
the priest (and not, as the present Prayer Book prescribes, any 
person standing by) should cast earth on the corpse. 



Scene Four] NOTES 155 

475. straining on, sc, the leash. The metaphor, as is obvious 
from the next line, is from coursing. 
489. and mar the seeds within. Cf. Macbeth, iv. 1. 59. 

" though the treasure 
Of Nature's germens tumble all together," 

and King Lear, iii. 2. 8, " Crack nature's moulds, all germens 
spill at once '' (Furness). 

492. fancy. This generally means "love" in Shakespeare: 
•cf. the song in The Merchant of Venice, " Tell me where is Fancy 
bred." The verb "fancy "in Shakespeare always has the sense 
of *' to love, to fall in love." 

Florizel is somewhat reckless; but his passion and ardour are 
of the right sort, and, moreover, they do not prevent his thinking 
©f his father (see 307). 

495. it, i. e. madness. 

510. opportune. This is to be accented "opportune." 

513. benefit your knowledge, profit you to know. 

515. easier, more yielding, more pliant. 

524, curious business, business so particular that great care is 
necessary in deahng with it. 

530. as, i. e. "as often as'' or " as soon as." 

538. the whom. Abbott (§ 270) says that this use of the with 
wko is perhaps unique in Shakespeare, whilst the with which is very 
common. He explains this by suggesting that " who is considered 
definite already and stands for a noun, while which is considered as 
an indefinite adjective ; just as in French we have lequel, but not 



641. with, in addition to. Camillo incites Florizel to marry and 
afterwards to strive to qualify his father's wrath, adding parentheti- 
cally that besides Florizel's strivings, his own best endeavours will 
be used to that purpose. 

542. discontenting, dissatisfied. 

543. bring him up to liking, urge him to approval. 
549. To, of. 

558. free, i. e. willing, eager. 

561 ff. o'er and o'er ... kindness. " Talks incessantly on two 
topics, his former unkindness and his present kindness in amends 
for it. " 

563. the one, sc. unkindness. 

567. Camillo is unscrupulous in his Polonius-like use of " wind- 



156 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

laces and assays of bias " ; he not only suggests deliberate falsifica- 
tion to Florizel, but in the very act of doing so is deceiving him : 
and that under the pretence of being secret with him. Yet this 
is a romance, not a tragedy; and moreover Camillo has a greater 
heart than has Polonius: so he is not in the end stuck dead like a 
rat and lugged into the neighbour room — he is married to Paulina. 

571. point you forth, i. e. indicate for you. 

580 ff. Nothing . . . be, Camillo means, " if instead of a fixed 
plan of going to Sicilia, you simply give yourselves to be the 
slaves of chance and every wind that blows, then you have but 
two things before you : either the miseries of the open sea, or, 
what is httle better (though best in such plight), anchorage in 
some safer, but still unpleasant, place." 

585. alters, i. e. changes for the worse ; cf. French alt^rer and 
see the note to 1. 409 above. 

587. take in, conquer, overpower; cf. Coriolanus, 1. 25, 24. 
** To take in many towns." 

591. o' her birth. The Ff read 'owr, which Rowe altered to 
o' her : and though he returned to the Folio reading in his second 
edition, the emendation is preferable to the Folio reading. Such 
a personal contrast between Perdita's and FlorizeFs state as ^our 
would imply, would be intolerable patronage in Florizel's mouth at 
this point. 

597. Medecine, i. e, physician: cf. Macbeth, v. 2. 27. 

" Meet we the medecine of the sickly weal, 
And with him pom: we, in our country's purge. 
Each drop of us." 

599. appear, sc. as such. 

603. For instance, for proof. 

605. Re-enter Autolyciis. At this point, we do not want to be 
worried with the prosaic details of the arrangements for flight : we 
simply want the fugitives oiF: and so we are provided with the 
excellent diversion of Autolycus. He offers us the comments of 
topsy-turvydom on the theme of the play — '*What a Fool 
Honesty is ! " and further he provides Camillo with the instru- 
ment of disguise, and comes in to contribute his quota to the 
denouement, 

608. pomander. This was a ball of perfumes worn on a chain 
round the neck, like an amulet. 

table-book, notebook : the leaves of a notebook are ** tab- 
lets "or ** tables " ; cf. Cymheline, iii. 2. 39, where love letters are 



Scene Four] NOTES 157 

called "young Cupid's tablets," and Hamlet, ii, 9. 136, " If I had 
played the desk or table-book. " 

612. hallowed. That is, made holy by some religious associa- 
tion, and hence efficacious against disease, etc. The Pardoner in 
2'he Canterbury/ Tales is a great trader in such relics. 

613. best in picture, '' best to look at, in best condition" 
(Herford). 

618. pettitoes. The word means properly " the feet of a pig." 
But here it may be no more than a diminutive of contempt: cf. 
mannikin. 

620. all their other senses stuck on ears. This is Autolycus' 
quaint way of saying that they did nothing but listen as if they 
were all ears. 

621. pinched. This slang word for *' stolen " is still in use. 
placket. See Note to 1. 2A5 above. 

622. geld a codpiece of a purse. Autolycus' indelicate way of 
saying " steal a purse from a trouser pocket." 

624. my sir's, i. e. the clown's. 

635. who. Shakespeare often uses who for the regular whom. 
See Abbott, § 274. 

636. this, i. e. this fellow, Autolycus. 

650. there 's some boot, " Here is a gift thrown in to equalize 
the bargain." Of course there is in this case no need for the boot, 
as Autolycus has already ** the better pennyworth " ; it is just 
Camillo's good-humoured way of putting it. 

651. (Aside), Autolycus is never asleep to his own advantages. 
654. flayed. Metaphorically, undressed. The Ff read fled 

which is obviously a misprint. 

658. earnest, earnest-money, part of the purchase price in 
advance — in this case, the boot alluded to in 650. 

661 ff. let my prophecy . . . ye. This is a parenthesis sug- 
gested by Camillo's address to Perdita : he called her fortunate 
somewhat prematurely ; but he adds, " may it be prophetic of your 
lot, may you be fortunate." 

667. For I do fear eyes over — to shipboard, etc. The Ff in- 
dicate that the clause "For . . . over" is parenthetical by print- 
ing it in brackets. Commentators, not liking the phrase ei/es over^ 
have suggested that the parenthesis ends with eyes ; and so they 
read 

" that you may — 
For I do fear eyes — over to shipboard 
Get undescricd." 



158 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Four 

But there is little reason to alter the form of the Ff. The phrase 
is parenthetic, merely thrown in to explain his action : hence its 
brevity and elliptical form. We can interpret : "I do fear eyes 
overlooking our business," or ** I do fear eyes above us and so able 
to see all we are doing. " 

669. Perdita but half- willingly and of necessity only gives way 
to Camillo's schemes : their deception does not please her. 

689. . . . boot. What a boot, Shakespeare is playing on the 
double meaning of the word, (1) as in 650, a gift to equalize the 
bargain, (2) advantage, profit. 

692. piece. The word is used in a general sense for and as 
*' thing " : here its meaning is a little more particular, ** act." 

694. clog. The derogative use of this word, applied to a per- 
son, '* encumbrance," may be illustrated by Bertram's applica- 
tion of it to Helena {AlVs Well, ii. 5. 58), '*Here comes my 
clog." 

696. / hold it , , , conceal. Autolycus has a fully graduated 
scale of inverted morality ; and his loyalty to his profession de- 
mands his choice of the greater degree of knavery. 

702-705. Autol^^cus overhears this, though the Clown does not 
know him in his new gear. But by hearing it, Autolycus sees a 
motive for carrying the Shepherd and the Clown to Florizel, a cir- 
cumstance w^hich is purely a thing of chance in Pandosto. Uncon- 
sciously, too, Autolycus is thus to become an instrument in the 
final denouement. 

730. at' palace, F 1 prints this apostrophe after the t to mark 
the omission of the definite article. 

733. excrement. The word is here used in its liberal sense, 
** outgrowth," alluding to the pedlar's beard. 

743 ff. Autolycus, like many of Shakespeare's clowns, makes 
great game of logic and plays on words. He confuses the clowns 
by his display of intellectual jugglery, and at the same time 
impresses them with the dignity of soldiership and of men of 
his quality. ''Tradesmen he," he says: i.e., "they give us the 
lie." Now comes the play on the metaphor: "but they do not 
give,'''' "they sell, since we pay them with stamped coin." And 
now the conclusion : " therefore they do not give us the he " : and 
then, the emphasis shifting from give to the whole phrase give us 
the lie and especially to the us, the implication is apparent : " there- 
fore they do not lie to ?f5." 

750-751. if you had , , , manner, " ' Manner' is mainour. Old 
French nianwvre, nieinor, Latin a manu, *from the hand,' or 'in 



Scene Four] NOTES 159 

the work/ The old law phrase *to be taken as a thief with the 
mainour ' signifies to be taken in the very act of killing venison, or 
stealing wood, or preparing to do so ; or it denotes the being taken 
with the thing stolen in his hands or possession." (Rushton, 
Shakespeare A Lawyer,) Hence, taken with the manner means 
"taken in the act." Probably the Clown is trying somewhat 
blunderingly to compliment Autolycus: he says in effect, "You 
told us that tradesmen often give you soldiers the lie, and we were 
believing it to be so, though it is certainly a lie : and so you 
caught yourself in the act of giving us this very wrong impression, 
and then so finely demonstrated that tradesmen dare not give you 
soldiers the lie." 

759. toaze, tear. This is probably a variant of the word touse, 
" to tear," which occurs in Measure for Measure, v. 1. 309, *' touze 
you joint from joint." 

767. pheasant. The Ff read plainly pheazant ; but Kendrick 
suggests that the true reading is present, the printer being misled 
by the pheasant in the following line. Perhaps the Shepherd con- 
fuses present with pheasant, or, more likely, the obvious present 
which occurs to him as a countryman, is one of game. Kendrick's 
suggestion has this advantage, that there is more connection be- 
tween the idea of an advocate and that of a present, than between 
the idea of an advocate and that of a pheasant. But perhaps the 
emendation is unnecessary ; Shakespeare is fond of making his 
clowns talk exquisite nonsense. 

775. His garments are rich. His garments, as commentators 
have noticed, were the " swain's wearing " which Florizel had as- 
sumed and not his ordinary courtier's dress. And so they find 
one of Shakespeare's inconsistencies here. But the question is 
not of great moment. Perhaps the " swain's wearing " was but a 
cloak or over-all put on over some articles of courtly dress : indeed, 
that there was some incongruity in the dress when Autolycus 
wore it seems evident from the Clown's description of it as fantas- 
tical, a word which means more than ill-fitting. 

772. the picking on 's teeth. Autolycus' possession of a tooth 
pick for ** the picking of his teeth" was a sign of his pretension to 
elegance: cf. King John, i. 1. 190. 

** Now your traveller, 
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess. 
And whi^n my knightly stomach is sufficed. 
Why then I suck my teeth," etc. 



160 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

786. Age, For this use of an abstract term concretely, cf. 433 
above, *' enchantment." 

790. capable of, i. e. able to comprehend. 

794. handfast, i. e. on bail. Staunton explains it as a legal 
technical term signifying, like the French mainprise, " at large 
only on security given." 

804. sheep- whistling, sheep-tending, whistling after his sheep. 

811 ff. Professor Herford points out that this is a somewhat 
heightened version of the death inflicted on Ambrogivolo, the 
lachimo of the immediate source of Cymbeline, Boccaccio's Decam- 
eron, ii. 9. 

824. being something gently considered. That is, for a con- 
sideration or bribe suitable to my estate and service : cf. Three 
Ladies of London (Hazlitt-Dodsley's Old Plays). " What, consider 
me ? does thou think that I am a bribe-taker ? " 

841. moiety, Autolycus wants immediate posesssion of the 
half of the bribe which the Shepherd had on him, and which he had 
promised to double. 

843. case. Again Shakespeare is showing his delight in pun- 
ning : there is a play on the double meaning of ccw^, (1) cause, 
condition, (2) skin. 

864. occasion. In the sense of " reason, cause." 



ACT V — SCENE 1 

In the last act PoHxenes and Camillo were brought before us 
again after the lapse of years. The flight of Perdita and Florizel 
now serves to bring us back to Sicilia and to Leontes : and at the 
outset of the scene, the air is cleared and we see the old and peni- 
tent king in saint-like sorrow. This scene carries on the Perdita- 
Florizel plot up to the point of its unravelUng; and it prepares for 
the complete denouement by revealing to us Leontes so purified 
that he is spiritually fitted for the return of Hermione. Further, 
Shakespeare prepares, by skilful manipulation of suggestions and 
references, for the audience's reception of the highly daring inci- 
dent which forms the spectacular climax of the play and its grand 
finale. 

A Room in Leontes' Palace, This is CapelFs headline for the 
mere numbering of the scene which the Ff give. 

6 ff. Note how skilfully and yet appositely Shakespeare con- 
trives to fix attention on Hermione — who has apparently been 



Scene One] NOTES l6l 

dead some sixteen years. And this attention is maintained by 
many direct or indirect appeals throughout the scene. 

19. good now. This is a common Shakespearian phrase denot- 
ing expostulation or entreaty ; cf. Hamlet, i. 1. 70, " Good now, 
sit down, and tell me, he that knows," etc. Furness describes 
this use of good as adding force to whatever meaning now may 
happen to bear : in this case now is deprecatory, and good adds a 
plaintive emphasis. 

27. fail. For this Shakespearian word for " failure," see note 
to ii. 3. 170. 

29. incertain, ^. e. irresolute. 

29-30. We are being prepared for the denouement : though of 
course, this mention of the rejoicing that might be if the queen 
were alive, alludes to such an event as entirely supposititious. 
Still, the mere mention helps to create the suitable atmosphere. 

35 fP. Note how the threads of the plot are being drawn to- 
gether. One thing now mentioned as monstrous to human rea- 
son we of the audience know to be about to be revealed as fact: 
and so we are gradually being prepared to accept an even greater 
monstrosity of reason. 

35. Respecting, i. e. in comparison with. 

59. Where we offenders . . . soul-vex'd. This line has given 
commentators much trouble. The Ff read " (Where we oifendors 
now appeare) soul-vex'd. " The text adopted in this edition is that 
of Knight and the Cambridge editors : it differs from the Folio 
only in making the subordinate sentence end at no^a, and putting 
appear with the principal clause. But the alteration does not 
affect the interpretation, which assumes that appear belongs both 
to the subordinate clause and to the principal one, repetition of 
the word being avoided by a somewhat harsh ellipsis of one occur- 
rence of the word; in full the text would read: ''Where we 
offenders now appear, appear soul-vex'd. " But the ellipsis appears 
too harsh even for Shakespeare to many editors : and so we have 
a number of suggested emendations. "(Where we offend her 
now) appear soul-vex 'd" (Theobald, Johnson, Dyce) ; *' (Where 
we offenders now appear, soul-vex'd) Begin * And why to me?'" 
(Capell) ; ** (Where we offenders move) appear soul-vex'd " (Delius). 

60. Why to me? sc. this humiliation: cf. Jonson's Execration 
upon Fw/caw (quoted by the Cambridge editors) 

** And why to me this ? thou lame god of fire. 
What have 1 done thus to provoke thy ire ? " 



162 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Fiv^e 

68. Paulina's insistence on Leontes* swearing not to marry 
again assures us of one moral change in Leontes' spiritual regener- 
ation by showing us his susceptibility to persuasion and argument 
— a quality which in his early days would have saved the tragedy, 
and, moreover, it focuses attention on Paulina and her mysterious 
actions and motives. Thus it doubly prepares for the denouement. 

75. affront, i. e. confront: cf. Hamlet^ iii. 1. 31, "That he . . . 
may here affront Ophelia." 

Good madam, — / have done. The Ff give this Hne to 
Cleomenes. But Capell's suggestion that " I have done" belongs 
to Paulina has been adopted by most editors. It is like Paulina 
to have done, and then to go on talking. 

84. Enter a Gentleman, The Ff have Enter a Servant, but 
lines 98-103 give conviction to Theobald's substitution of a 
Gentleman. 

90. out of circumstance, i. e. without formality and ceremony. 

100. that theme, i. e. Hermione. 

109. who. This is both irregular and elliptical for " those 
whom. " 

113. assisted with, attended by. 

127. so hit in you, so perfectly reproduced in you. 

136-8. whom . . . him. This repetition of the object which 
has already been expressed by the relative is a fairly common 
idiom in Shakespeare. 

137. my life. This is not the object of the verb " desire," but 
is an adverbial phrase, meaning *' during my life," '* before I die." 

140. at friend, as being on terms of friendship ; cf. Hamlet, iv. 
3. 46, ** The wind at help,'' and see Abbott, § 143. 

142. Which waits upon worn times, which attends old age. 

149. offices, *' doings " (in general), here, " words." 

156. adventure, in the general Elizabethan sense of ** chance, 
risking." 

170. climate. This verb is interpreted '* to dwell in a particular 
region or clime " (Shakespeare Glossary), " to sojourn under our 
skies" (Herford). The *' clime" is properly that region of the 
heavens which is above any given place. Shakespeare is using his 
customary boldness with words, converting a noun into a verb 
without change of form : see Abbott, § 290, where a number of 
similar instances are given, including one very bold one — "He 
godded me" {Coriolaniis, v. 3. 11). 

171. graceful, gracious, amply endowed with graces. 

172. sacred, sacred because the person of a king. 



Scene Two] NOTES l63 

174. Have left me issueless, Leontes says this believing it to 
be true. But the audience know that it is really false — for they 
know that Perdita — unknown to her, of course — is actually be- 
fore him. Such a device is very common in drama, and is gener- 
ally called Dramatic Irony. 

187. it, i. e. the speaking amazedly or confusedly. 

202. deaths in death. That is, tortures, each one of which is 
deadly. 

202 ff. Notice that Perdita 's first thought on discovery is not 
of herself, but of her (supposed) father. We see moreover from 
her next words how she is repelled by shifts involving deception : 
heaven sets spies to detect them. 

207. The odds for high and low 's alike. Princes and beggars 
are treated indifferently by Fortune. 

214. worth. *' Worth signifies any kind of worthiness, and 
among others that of high descent " (Johnson). 

219. since, when (see Abbott, § 132). 

219-20. since you owed . . . now, *' when you were as young 
as I am now." Note how recollections and memories of former 
days are made prominent in this scene : this line is a direct appeal 
for them. Of course, they serve to create an atmosphere for the 
reemergence of the Queen of the old days. 

227. How beautifully Shakespeare makes use of Greene's 
horrible tale of Pandosto's lust for Fawnia ! She appeals to 
Leontes by her likeness to Hermione : and this appearance in the 
flesh of Perdita, a second Hermione, leads the way to the re- 
appearance in the flesh of Hermione herself. 

229. How complete is Leontes' regeneration! he, the original 
breaker of bonds, is now the restorer of peace! 

230. Your honour . . . desires. This is a hypothetical clause: 
** if your honour be not overthrown by your desires ! " 



SCENE 2 

This scene presents the unravelling of the Florizel-Perdita plot. 
But the intensity and amazedness of the event is qualified and 
restrained so that it will not counteract the iUnoiieme/nt of the 
main plot which is to follow immediately. So the scene is in 
prose, as being less intense than verse: the incident is narrated, 
not enacted ; and the interest is diversified by the introduction of 
such subsidiary appeals as the courtier's euphuistic mode of 



164 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

speech and the humour of Autolycus, the Clown, and the Shep- 
herd. All these forbid a concentration of interest on Florizel 
and Perdita : that concentration is required in the next scene for 
Hermione. 

Before Leontes' Palace. This is Capell's addition to the Scena 
Secunda of the Ff. 

5. after a little amazedness, i. e, after the King had recovered 
somewhat from his astonishment. 

12. notes of admiration. That is, marks of exclamation, (!). 
The full sentence may be interpreted : " the changes in the king 
and Camillo marked their amazement as plainly and as fully as 
the mark of exclamation denotes the spirit of the words it follows." 
admiration^ as often, " wonder," " astonishment." 

14. cases of their eyes, eyelids: ci. Pericles, iii. 2. 99, 

" Behold 
Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels." 

19. hut seeing, than what could be seen. 

20. importance, in the sense of '* import." 

27. On the function of the ballad-mongers as newsagents, see 
Note to iv. 4. 279. 

33. pregnant by circumstance. " Full to conviction with cir- 
cumstantial evidence," hence " perfectly evident" 

38. character, i. e. handwriting, 

39. affection. The word here bears the sense of " natural dis- 
position, quality." 

62. countenance, bearing, demeanour. The word generally has 
this abstract meaning in Shakespeare, scarcely ever the concrete 
meaning of " face." 

53. favour, i. e. features. 

59. clipping, embracing: cf. 1 Henry 4, iii. 1. 44, **clipp'd in 
with the sea," and, for a more explicit expression of the same meta- 
phor. King John, v. 2. 34, *' Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee 
about." 

60. weather-bitten. Steevens explains this as "corroded by 
the weather." Ff 3, 4 read weather-beaten, but this metaphor is 
less original and less forcible. Shakespeare's meaning is illustrated 
by Ritson's quotation of ** weather-bitten epitaph" from Antony 
Munday's Oerileon of England, Part ii (1592). 

conduit of many kings' reigns. Shakespeare is indulging 
his love of puns: this particular one {rains and reigns) is somewhat 



Scene Two] NOTES l65 

" high-fantastical," but it fits in with the affected speech of the 
Gentlemen speaking. Conduits or water-pipes, we are told, were 
often made in the form of a human figure. 

63. do, i. e, express. 

70. innocence, in the sense of " simplicity." 

89 ff . The diction of these Gentlemen doubtless reproduces types 
of affected speech prevalent at court in the early years of the cen- 
tury (cf. Osric in Hamlet and Oswald in King Lear). Fashions in 
courtly speech were brief, and the " Euphuism " of Lyly, who first 
created a model of courtly speech, had long been out of date. But 
the later fashions shared with it the common character of preciosity, 
— the desire to speak otherwise than '*the base vulgar," — tho' 
they carried it out by different methods and with varying degrees 
of artistic feeUng for form. 

98. most marble. Cf. Antony and Cleopatra, v. 2. 240, ** Now 
from head to foot I am marble constant." 

104. piece. This word is used in a general sense like ** thing ": 
here it may be interpreted particularly, " work of art." 

105. performed* This is used in its hberal sense, *' com- 
pleted." 

106. Julio Romano. Giulio de Pietro de Filippo de Giannuzzi 
(Julio Romano) was born at Rome in 1499; he was the favourite 
pupil of Raphael who left him his instruments. He finished 
Raphael's fresco in the Hall of Constantine in the Vatican, and 
later practically rebuilt the cathedral at Mantua, where he died in 
1546 (cf. J. E. G. de Montmorency in The Contemporary Review, 
May, 1913). Shakespeare may have known the painter from 
Vasari's Life; or, if Shakespeare ever went to Italy, he may 
have seen Julio's epitaph in Mantua; or most probably, there may 
have been some of Julio's work in the Whitehall collection. Some 
critics have urged against Shakespeare that Romano is known 
only as a painter. But Vasari quotes an epitaph on Julio which 
speaks of his '* sculptured and painted" work: so he was probably 
both painter and sculptor. And further, the statue of Hermione 
is represented as being painted (v. 8. 47): we know from con- 
temporary evidence that the Elizabethans liked painted statues; 
cf. Jonson's Magnetic Lady, 

Dr. Rut. I'll have her statue cut now in white marble. 
Sir Moth. And have it painted in most ardent colours. 
Dr. Rut. That's right! all city statues must be painted. 

Else they be worth nought in their subtle judgment. 



166 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

Shakespeare has also been blamed for making Julio Romano con- 
temporary with the Delphic oracle. But all things are possible in 
the fairyland of romance. 

108. custom, trade. 

111. greediness of affection, hunger of love. 

117. piece, in the sense of ** piece out," *' increase." 

129. grace, blessing. 

121. unthrifty to our knowledge, careless of enriching our 
knowledge. 

127. so, i. e. as. 

138. gentleman born. The Elizabethan definition of a "gentle- 
man born " is quoted by Douce from The Book of Honor and Armes 
(1590) : *' he must be descended from three degrees of gentry, both 
on mother's and father's side." 

159. preposterous, the Clown's blunder for '* prosperous.'* 

173. franklins, yeoman farmers (below the rank of gentle- 
men). 

177. tall, bold, courageous : cf. Richard IIl^ i. 4. 157, "Spoke 
like a tall fellow." Cotgrave illustrates the use of the phrase 
" fellow of thy hands " by his rendering of the French Homme a 
la main, '* a man of execution or valour, a man of his hands." 



SCENE 3 

This, the final scene shortly but majestically gives us the climax 
— Hermione's descent to life and to Leontes. The threads of the 
** old tale " are drawn together : all severed ties are united, and 
the actors are " precious winners all " ; their exultation and joy 
Shakespeare suggests to our ready perception without dilating on 
them at length. 

A chapel in Paulina's house. This is Capell's addition to the 
Scena Tertia of the Ff. 

Enter Leontes^ etc. This is Rowe's arrangement In the Ff 
we have Enter Leontes, PoUxenes, FlorizeU Perdita, Camillo, 
Paulina ; Hermione (like a Statue) : Lords, etc. 

4. home, i. e. in full. See Notes to i. 2. 214 and 948. 

12. singularities, i. e. rarities. 

18. lonely. F 1 reads lovely. But Hanmer's emendation justi- 
fies itself by its greater cogency, and by the easy confusion of a i> 
and an n. 



Scene Three] NOTES 167 

20. Notice the appropriate slowness of the spondaic movement 
of the first half of this line. 

28-9. nothing So aged. Nothing is used here as an adverb, 
just as " something " is in 1. 93 above, something near. 

32. As, i. e. as if. 

41. admiring, amazed, wondering : cf. admiration in the sense 
of " amazement, wonder " above. 

61. So many summers dry. In full, *' which so many summers 
cannot dry." 

52. Metrically this line consists of but four feet. 

54-56. Lei him . . . himself. " Let him (^. e. myself) who was, 
though unintentionally the cause of this, have the power by his 
sympathy to divert upon himself so much of this grief as he may 
justly make his own " (Deighton). 

60-61. Notice how skilfully and gradually, by suggestion, 
the atmosphere of expectation is created : we are made to ex- 
pect the impossible, and hence are ready to believe it when it 
comes. 

62. Would I . , , already — . The end of this line is marked 
by a full stop in the Ff ; but most editors substitute a dash to 
imply that Leontes breaks off in his thought to turn his mind to 
some other thing. Regarding the line as an incompleted expres- 
sion, we may imagine a host of things Leontes might have been 
about to say: Staunton, for instance, says "the expression is 
neither more nor less than an imprecation equivalent to ' Would I 
may die,' etc. : and the King's real meaning, in reference to 
Pauhna's remark that he will think anon it moves, is * May I die if 
I do not think it moves already.'" 

67. The fixure . . . in't. "Though the eye, as the eye of 
a statue, is necessarily fixed, yet it seems to have motion " 
(Deighton). Bradley {New Eng. Diet.) explains j^a7?^rg as an adap- 
tation of the late 'LaXXn fixur a ^ " fixture " being an altered form 
after the analogy of " mixture." 

68. As,i. e. "for so." 

86. presently, as generally in Shakespeare, "immediately." 
resolve you, * prepare yourselves." Of course, the audi- 
ence has been prepared by a number of devices already: but as 
the thing to come is so stupendously daring, we are given one final 
incentive to cast aside all unbelief: and our feelings are helped to 
take the final step by the aid of strains of music. 

96. unlawful business. The business would be thought un- 
lawful if it apparentl}' dealt with the black art. 



168 THE WINTER'S TALE [Act Five 

100. look upon, look on. For this use of the preposition upon, 

see Abbott, § 192. 

107. double, twice over. 

117. Now, for the third time. The Winter's Tale is spoken of as 
"hke an old tale," that is, a tale in which we are to take much of 
the impossible and the fantastic for granted. 

129. upon this push. "By impulse of this (i. e. Perdita's 
story)." 

130. with like relation, i. e, with your (Hermione's) tale. 

131. precious winners, winners of things of price, winners of 
what you prize. 

132. Partake to, participate with, share with ; cf. Pericles^ i. 1. 
153, *'Our mind partakes her private actions to your secrecy." 

135. lost, Furness suggests that perhaps Paulina's meta- 
phorical reference to her own death takes shape from memory of 
the form of death which befell Antigonus. 

145. richly noted, highly reputed. 

149-151. These Hues are addressed to Hermione. It is an ex- 
quisite touch which thus suggests that Hermione has so to be 
asked to look at Polixenes : it was the last faint trace of fear in the 
memory of the past which moved to forbear looking at him. 

149. This, Most editors accept this typographical emenda- 
tion for the Folio reading This,^ 

150-151. whom heavens . . . etc. This is an instance of what 
Abbott calls a confusion of two constructions. The subject {v:ho) 
oi is troth — plight is made the object of directing, Abbott gives 
as a parallel instance, " Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose 
is drowned " (The Tempest, iii. 3. 92). 



APPENDIX A 

Extract from The Book of Flaxes and Notes thereof, by Dr. 
Simon Forman: 

"In the Winters Talle at the glob 
1611 the 15of Mayegi 

"Obserue ther howe Lyontes the Kinge of Cicillia was overcom 
w* lelosy of his wife with the Kinge of Bohemia his frind that came 
to se him. and howe he contriued his death and wold haue had 
his cup berer to haue poisoned, who gaue the King of bohemia 
warning thereof & fled with him to bohemia | Remeber also howe 
he sent to the Orakell of appollo & the Aunswer of apollo. that 
she was giltles. and that the kinge was lelouse &c and howe 
Except the child was found Agane that was loste the Kinge should 
die without yssue. for the child was caried into bohemia & ther 
laid in a forrest & brought up by a sheppard. And the kinge of 
bohemia his sonn maried that wentch & howe they fled into Cicillia 
to Leontes and the sheppard hauing showed the letter of the no- 
bleman by whom Leontes sent a [sic] was that child and the Jewells 
found about her. she was knowen to be Leontes daughter and was 
then 16 yers old 

Remember also the Rog that cam in all tottered like coll pixel 1 2 
and howe he feyned him sicke & to haue bin Robbed of all that 
he had and howe he cosoned the por man of all his money, and 
after cam to the shep sher with a pedlers packe & there cosoned 
them Again of all their money. And howe he changed apparrell 
wt the Kinge of bomia his sonn. and then howe he turned Cour- 
tiar, &c I beware of trus tinge feined beggars or fawninge fellouse." 

^ g is interpreted by Halliwell as Wednesday — but without given 
reason. 

2 coll pixel is explained by Staunton as a corruption of the nick- 
name of some noted vagabond of the time. 



169 



APPENDIX B 

NOTE ON THE METRE OF THE WINTER'S TALE 

1. Blank Verse 

The metre generally employed by Shakespeare in his plays is 
called blank verse. This verse is, as its name implies, without 
rhyme, and its rhythmic base (sometimes, misleadingly, called the 
normal rhythm) consists in the fivefold recurrence of alternately 
stressed and unstressed syllables, beginning with an unstressed, 
ending with a stressed syllable, and hence called a rising rhythm : 
e.g. 

To ming | le friend | ship far | is ming | ling bloods, (i. 2. 109.) 

It is usual to call such a verse iambic pentameter — pentameter 
because the combination of stressed and unstressed syllables which 
periodically recurs does so five times, and iambic because within 
each of these recurring units or feet the rhythmic arrangement is 
an unstressed followed by a stressed syllable. It will be at once 
apparent that the basis of this as of all Enghsh metre, is stress. 

Stress is the strong or prolonged dwelling of the voice on any 
syllable for some particular reason ; but stress is not exactly what 
is generally called emphasis, for emphasis is the strong dwelling 
of the voice always and only on that syllable which sense deter- 
mines ; nor is it at all the same as quantity, for quantity denotes 
solely the time for which the voice dwells on a particular syllable. 
Beyond this, however, one can hardly say what stress is. But one 
quality of stress must be insisted upon strongly, for this quality is 
the real distinguishing factor in the nature of English verse : the 
stress given to a syllable can and does vary infinitely, and all this 
infinite variety must be plainly and fully recognised : for the ear 
alone is judge. It is only for the convenience of such notes as 
this Appendix that we standardise stress as if only three variations 
— unstressed, weak-stressed, and strong-stressed — were possible : 
and if the result of such a course is that the young student endeav- 
ors to reduce all stresses to one of these three, and recognises no 

170 



APPENDIX B 171 

other variety, then it were better for his understanding of the 
beauty of verse that the appendix were omitted entirely. Let him 
read verse naturally, as sense and ear seem to require : when he 
has thus decided how a verse is to be read, then only, and even 
then, but for the subsidiary purpose of accounting for the princi- 
ples of verse, let him think of iambs, full stresses, weak stresses, 
etc. Only thus can he read essays on metre, and yet preserve an 
ear for poetry. 

2. Normal Variations 

The primary form of the Shakespearian line is the succession of 
five feet, each of two syllables, and each consisting of an unstressed 
followed by a stressed syllable. But such arrangement easily be- 
comes monotonous and mechanic. Hence it is frequently varied. 

i. The stress in one or more of the feet may be varied by inver- 
sion, i. e. by throwing the stress onto the first syllable of the foot 
instead of onto the second. The rhythm of such a foot is usually 
called trochaic^ or falling rhythm, and the foot a trochee. Usually 
the inversion comes at the beginning of the line, or after a pause : 
for its immediate effect is to hold up, as it were, the foot in which 
it occurs, and so draw special notice to that foot. But when the 
foot in which inversion occurs is immediately followed by a normal 
foot, the holding up is only momentary, and the total result is a 
greater impetus and precipitation consequent on two unstressed 
syllables coming together : that part of the line following the in- 
version gets, as it were, a running start. This naturally does not 
apply to an inversion in the last foot of an end stopped line — in 
which case the effect is usually that of a very apparent halting, 
e. g. • 

1st foot (exceeding! V common). 

Summon | a sess | ion, that we may arraign, (ii. 3. 202.) 

2d foot (rare, and only for specific effects of emphasis). 

He thinks, | nay, with | all confidence he swears, (i. 2. 414.) 

3d foot. 

As soft I as dove's | down, and | as white as it. (iv. 4. 373.) 
In those | unpledg'd | days was | my wife a girl. (i. 2. 78.) 

4th foot. 

The brat | hath been | cast out, | like to | itself, (iii. 2. 88.) 
Almost I as like | as eggs: | women | say so. (i. 2. 130.) 

5th foot (rare). 

She priz | es not I such trff | les as | th6se are. (iv. 4. 367.) 
Peering | in Apr ( il's front. | This your | she6p-shearing. * 

(iv. 4. 3.) 



172 APPENDIX B 

In the last example, the inversion in the fifth foot is not beyond all 
question. But the line is an instance of Shakespeare's commoa 
practice of admitting more than one inversion in one line. 

ii. Further variety is obtained by the introduction of an extra 
unstressed syllable to any foot in the line : the foot then corre- 
sponds to an anapaest instead of an iambus. These extra syllables 
are not extra-metrical. Their introduction, giving a succession of 
lightly pronounced, to a certain extent slurred, unstressed sylla- 
bles, serves to give the verse a conversational flow and rhythm : 
and consequently they are very common in dramatic verse, but 
not so common in the more exalted verse of the epic, e. g. 

1st foot. 

Being now | awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther, (iv. 4. 459.) 
You had much | ado to make his anchor hold. (i. 2. 213.) 

2d foot. 

The mirth | 6' the feast. | Or I '11 be thine, my fair. (iv. 4. 42.) 
The mort | 6' the deer; | O, that is entertainment, (i. 2. 118.) 

Sd foot. 

The grac | ious mark | 6' thS land, | you have obscured, (iv. 4. 8.) 

4th foot. 

These your | unus | ual weeds | to each part | of you. (iv. 4. 1.) 

5th foot. 

F61 I low us I to the court. | Thou churl | for this time. (iv. 4. 442.) 
We were | as twinn'd | lambs that | did frisk | i' the sun. (i. 2. 67.) 

It is by no means unusual, especially in Shakespeare's later plays, 
for there to be more than one foot .with an extra unstressed 
syllable. 

We are yours 1 1' the gard | en: shall's | attend | you there? (i. 2. 178.) 

iii. Occasionally, but rarely, an unstressed syllable is omitted, 
especially where the stress is exceptionally strong, or where a 
pause may be assumed to compensate for the omission : e. g. 

How I I am gall'd, | — might'st | bespi ce | a c\ip. (i. 2. 316.) 

iv. In addition to the extra unstressed syllables (see ii. above) 
which are an integral part of the metre in that they alter the 
rhythmic structure of the verse, there are also extra-metrical syl- 
lables, so called because they do not really modify the rhythmic 
structure. They are very common in Shakespeare's later plays, 
occurring generally after a pause, and especially at the end of 
a line : e. g. 

But on I ly see I (ing), all oth | er cir | cumstanc(es). (ii. 1. 178.) 



APPENDIX B 173 

They are very common when a change of speaker occurs within 
the line : 

In that I which seems | (so). 

Be it I forbid, | my lord ! (i. 2. 241.) 

Sometimes two such extra-metrical syllables occur together : 

May a [ free face | put on, | derive | a lib 1 (erty). (i. 2. 112.) 

(though some people would regard the conventional stress attach- 
ing to 'ty as sufficient justification for regarding this line as of 
six feet). 

The occurrence of extra-metrical syllables is very common when 
a proper name is the last word at the end of the line or before 
the pause : 

To your | own con J science, sir, | before | Polix (enes.) (iii. 2. 47.) 
That e'er I the sun f shone bright I on. O | Hermi (one.) (v. 1. 95.) 
Thou art | Hermi(one); | or rath | er thou | art she. (v. 3. 25.) 
The rar | est of | all worn | en. Go, | Cleom (enes.) (v. 1. 112.) 

When a line ends with one or more extra-metrical syllables, it is 
said to have a double or feminine ending. Such endings are rare 
in Shakespeare's early plays, but become so common in later plays 
that they can be considered normal. In The Comedy of Errors 
there are no double endings ; in The Winter^ s Tale^ 12 out of 21 
lines have them. The dramatic advantage of the double ending 
is its closer approximation to ordinary language, but it has the 
defect of this quality in that it tends towards the formlessness of 
prose, a defect amply illustrated in later Elizabethan drama. 

V. A normal line of blank verse has a sense pause at the end of 
the line, and a slighter pause (a break or ccBsura) within the line. 
In his later plays Shakespeare obtains variety by allowing the 
caesura to fall at any point within the line, and by omitting the 
pause at the end of the line. As a consequence, the distance 
between two pauses, instead of being fixed, may vary from a few 
syllables almost to the full extent of two lines : e. g. iv. 4. 344-355. 

In Shakespeare's early plays, the normal line is end-stopped, but 
in the later plays the number of end-stopped lines decreases in 
gradual proportion : thus in The Comedy of Errors the proportion 
of end-stopped lines is 3 in 23, or 1 in 7.6f), in The Winter s Tale 
it is 9 in 21, or 1 in 2.3. Thus the increasing frequency of run-on 
lines is a useful guide to the approximate date of a play : cf. The 
Comedy of Errors^ i. 1. 99-121, and The Winter's Tale^ iv. 4. 517- 
543, as examples of opposed types at either extreme. 



174 APPENDIX B 



3. Weak Stresses 



We have already stated that stress occurs in very many dif- 
ferent degrees. Thus, while the base-rhythra of the foot is an 
unstressed followed by a stressed syllable, either or both syllables 
may, and commonly do, depart from this by having some interme- 
diate degree of stress. Hence arise both the endless variety as 
between foot and foot, and also the possibility of the no less end- 
lessly varied rhythms of the entire verse. 

1. Thus as a rule there are not five full stresses in a line. Gen- 
erally there are four or three full stresses and one or two weaker 
stresses : e. g. 

Look on I me with | your wel | kin eye : | sweet villain! (i. 2. 136.) 
Thou mayst | cojoin | with some | thing; and ! thou dost. (i. 2. 143.) 
Let what | is dear | in Sic | ily | be cheap, (i. 2. 175.) 
^ A serv | ant graft | ed in | my ser | ious trust, (i. 2. 246.) 

The commonest place in which this substitution of a weak stress 
(or of an unstressed syllable) for a strong one occurs, is the fifth 
foot Run-on hues do not necessarily alter the rhythmic quality 
of the verse ; but the run-on is made more obvious by a modifica- 
tion in the stressing of the last foot of the line. When this last 
foot bears a weaker stress than the normal foot, then an impetus 
is given to the run-on. Hence the prevalence of what are called 
' light ' and ' weak ' endings. A light ending is a monosyllabic 
ending on which ' the voice can to a small extent dwell ' : e. g. 
auxiliary verbs, personal pronouns, etc. 

Nothing I so cer | tain as | your anch | ors, who. (iv. 4. 580.) 

A weak ending is a monosyllabic ending of such nature that the 
voice cannot possibly dwell on it, but must inevitably be precipi- 
tated forward to the next line : e. g. prepositions like for^ fronts in^ 
conjunctions like aiid, or, if. Even a weak ending, however, 
acquires a conventional stress, though a weak one, by its position 
in the line. 

The man | ner of | your bear | ing towards | him, with. (iv. 4. 568.) 
Freed and | enfranch | ised, not | a par | ty to z 

The ang | er of | the king | nor guil 1 ty of. (ii. 2. 61, 62.) 

The frequency of hght and weak endings is a further test of the 
comparative lateness of the date of any of Shakespeare's plays. In 
Tlie Comedy of Errors there are no light endings and no weak ones ; 



APPENDIX B 175 

in The Winter^ s Tale there are 3.12 per cent of light endings, 2.36 
per cent of weak endings. 

ii. On the other hand, there are often two stressed syllables in 
one foot : e. g. 

Still sleep | mock'd death: | behold, | and say | 'tis well. (v. 3. 20.) 

This is not uncommon in verses composed mainly of monosyllables. 
The heavy spondaic movement gives a strength and solemnity 
which can have great dramatic and poetic value. 

4. Less Usual Variations 

i. Occasionally lines occur with six stresses and feet instead of 
five : 

Or Eth I iop I ian's tooth | or the | fann'd snow | that 's b61ted. 
(iv. 4. 374.) 

Lines of six stresses are fairly common in The Winter's Tale. 
They may be regarded as normal lines of five stresses to which is 
attached a more or less isolated foot : e. g. 

Making practised smiles 
As in I a look | ing glass, | and then | to sigh | as 'twere 
The most o' the deer. (i. 2. 117.) 

See also 

My lord, in iv. 4. 532, although in i. 2. 22, thereto in i. 2. 391, For as in 
iii. 2. 87. 

ii. Further, some lines have only four stresses, although there is 
generally some special circumstance compensating for the omission : 

that you might do 
Nothing I but that; | move still, | still so. (iv. 4. 142.) 

in which hne the last four words may be regarded as bearing the 
slow, heavy stress of intense rapture, and so compensating for an 
apparent omission of one foot. 

Similarly 

scarce any joy 

Did ev I er s6 I long live. | No sorrow (v. 3. 52.) 

may be regarded as compensated for the absence of the one foot 
by the pause after live. In this, it may be parallel to the difficult 
hne 

The doct | rine 6f | ill-doing, | nor dream'd. (i. 2. 70.) 



176 APPENDIX B 

in which the marked pause after doing may have the compensative 
value necessary. 
In the line 

Which you | knew great | and to | the hazard, (iii. 2. 169.) 

there are only three fuU stresses ; but commentators have sug- 
gested the insertion of certain before hazard, and this would make 
the verse regular. 

iii. Very rarely there are incomplete lines of no more than two 
stresses. These are generally dramatically appropriate, expressing 
an irritable perturbation, or an overwhelming passion : e. g. i. 2, 
182, iv. 4. 404. See also i. 9. 46, ii. 3. 102. 

5. Apparent Irregularities 

i. Accentual. It often happens that a line reads awkwardly 
because we have changed our accentuation of some words since 
Shakespeare's day : thus Shakespeare accents charac'ter, in 
Hamlet i. 3. 59 ; author'ized, Macbeth iii. 4. 6Q, Similarly in The 
Winter's Tale we have access\ v. 1. 87, contract, iv. 4. 428, 
oppor'tune, iv. 4. 511. It sometimes happens — probably because 
in some cases the accentuation had not definitely settled itself^ 
that Shakespeare uses two different accentuations for the same 
word: e. g. something' and some'thing, where' fore and wherefore' ^ 
com'plete and complete'. 

ii. Syllabic, a. Sometimes a prefix is omitted : thus we get 
'ihrew for heschrew, i. 2. 281 ; ''longs for belongs, iii. 2. 104. 

6. It is quite common for an initial vowel to be lost after a con- 
sonant in the preceding word : thus we get this'* for this is, shall V 
for shall ics. 

c. An unstressed vowel before a consonant within the word is 
often lost, especially in 

i. the inflection — as in the superlatives dear'^st, sweeVst, iii. 2. 
202, and in the past tense and participle ; indeed the short- 
ened forms are the most usual in this play. 

ii. the last syllable but one of polysyllabic words accented on 
the first syllable : e. g. 

With thoughts | so qual | (i)fied as | your char | ities. (ii. 1. 113.) 
The inn | (o)cent milk | in it | most inn | (o)cent mouth, (iii. 2. 101.) 

d. Two vowels coming together in the same or adjacent words 
often coalesce : e. g. to^ppear, iii. 2. 81 ; unusiml, iv. 4. 1 ; nuptial^ 



APPENDIX B 177 

iv. 4. 50 ; mainJf^^ i. 9. 192. So, too, a light vowel preceded by a 
diphthong is generally absorbed by the diphthong : e. g. 'power is 
generally monosyllabic. 

Shakespeare varies in his use of words ending in -ion, -ian, -iow5, 
etc. ; sometimes the termination is monosyllabic, sometimes dissyl- 
labic : cf. transformati-ons^ iv. 4. 31, and celebration^ iv. 4. 50. 

e. Often where a hquid {U w, n, r) follows another consonant 
immediately, a vowel sound is introduced between them, thus pro- 
ducing an additional syllable : thus the termination -ble has itself 
generally monosyllabic value, as in honourable (4 syllables), ii. 1. 
111. So also 

Grace and | remem | b(e)rance | be to | you both. (iv. 4. 76.) 

/. On the other hand, a liquid often causes the loss of a light 
vowel sound immediately following it : thus spirit and peril are 
often monosyllabic. 

g. The liquid r may resolve a preceding vowel or diphthong into 
two syllables : e. g. yovr^\ iii. 2. 232, and (possibly) tho-rm^ i. 2. 
329. 

A. ih and v (and more rarely other consonants) coming between 
two vowels are occasionally dropped, reducing two syllables to 
one : e. g. shovels, iv. 4. 470 ; even, whether. We also get towards, 
iv. 4. 568. 

6. Prose 

There is generally an apparent reason when Shakespeare tempo- 
rarily rejects his usual medium — verse — for prose. Thus in this 
play, as in most others, the comic characters, Autolycus, the 
Shepherd, the Clown, Mopsa, etc., use prose ; and when the more 
exalted personages speak to these characters, prose is regularly 
their usage. When the comic characters lay aside their comic qual- 
ity really or apparently and appear in a more exalted manner, they 
occasionally speak in verse : thus the Shepherd (iv. 4. 55 etc.) as 
master of ceremonies opens the sheep-shearing feast in verse, and 
Autolycus (iv. 4, 771) assumes the attitude of the publican moralist 
in three lines of blank verse. Further, prose is the usual medium 
for messages conveyed by servants, and for announcements made 
by them; this usage is analogous to the formal prose of ceremonial 
occasions, as, for instance, the Indictment of Hermione, and the 
message of the oracle in this play. 

In addition we find prose in three other scenes, i. 1, iv. 2, v. 2. In 



178 APPENDIX B 

all of them the prose is probably intended to mark an ease and calm- 
ness in the emotional atmosphere. In i. 1 we have the frank intimacy 
and undisturbed joy which is soon to be rudely stirred, but the 
calm is as yet unbroken, passion as yet dormant. In iv. 2 we have 
what is virtually another opening scene, the opening of the second 
part of the play ; and here again the prose marks a quietness of 
emotional atmosphere, not as in the former case, a quietness which 
is as yet undisturbed, but a quietness which is the work of time. 
And so these two scenes mark oases of spiritual calm in a desert 
of intense heat ; their normality is marked by their prose, and is 
thus contrasted with the abnormal intensity of excitement and 
emotion which finds its fittest expression in the verse of the rest of 
the play; v. 2 is rather different. Probably the casting of the 
relation of the discovery of Perdita into prose is Shakespeare's de- 
liberate effort to allay the excitement and amazedness of the inci- 
dent, and by that means to preserve the emotional climax for the 
resurrection of Hermione immediately following. 



GLOSSARY 



(I need hardly say that most of the following notes are based di- 
rectly on Murray's New English Dictionary.) 



acre (i. 2. 96), in this instance, a 
lineal measure, 40 poles, a fur- 
long; from O. E. cecer, cognate, 
Lat. ager, Gr. ayp6?, the original 
significance of the root being 
*' open country." There are three 
distinct senses of the word: — 
(1) a piece of arable land of any 
dimensions; cf. N. Carpenter, 
Geog. Delin.: "Some parcels of 
ground should as pastures bee 
divided from Woody acres," and 
cf. also the modern phrase, 
"broad acres:" (2) a definite 
measure originally as much as a 
yoke of oxen could plough in one 
day, afterwards fixed by statutes 
previous to and during the time of 
Henry VIII to the area enclosed 
by 40 poles length and 4 poles 
breadth: (3) a Hneal measure, an 
acre length, generally 40 poles or 
a furlong, since this was the length 
of the acre standard of legal fic- 
tion; cf. Holland, Fliny: " The 
length of the very demy Island 
... is not above 87 miles and a 
halfe, and the breadth is no place 
less than two acres of land." 

allay (iv. 2. 9), abatement, temper- 
ing, retardment. The root signifi- 
cation is " mixture," from O. 
North Fr. aley, from the verb 
aleier, aloyer, ultimately from 
Lat. alligare, to bind together, 
mix. But the French form 
was erroneously connected with 
the phrase a loi, to law, to stan- 
dard; and so the idea of a stan- 
dard mixture was associated with 



the word before it was accepted 
into our language. And this con- 
fusion was very much further con- 
founded when the word — as 
noun and verb — came into Eng- 
Hsh. There is an EngHsh verb 
allay direct from O. E. a-lecgan, 
to set on one side, to put off: but 
several M. E. forms of this word 
are identical with some of the 
forms of at least four Romance 
words also existing in EngHsh at 
that time, viz. (1) a word from 
Latin alleviare, to lighten; (2) one 
from Latin alligare, to bind, to 
mix; (3) one from Lat. allegare, to 
send for, to cite; (4) one from O. Fr. 
alleguer, connected with 3. This 
identity of form gave rise to a 
network of overlapping meanings, 
some of which are combinations 
of the senses of any two of the 
five words mentioned. Thus in 
our present text, there are con- 
nections with " putting off," 
" lightening," and " mixing." 

allow (iv. 1. 29), admit what is of- 
fered, concede what is claimed-, 
from O. Fr. alouer, which is really 
the form of two distinct words: 
(1) meaning " to praise," " to com- 
mend," Lat. allaudare, (2) mean- 
ing " to bestow," *' to assign," 
Lat. allocare. In O. Fr. these 
were regarded as two senses of the 
same word, and when the Engli:5h 
took the word, they took the tw^) 
senses. So allow has senses which 
blend the two primary significa- 
tions, as in the present case. 



179 



180 



GLOSSARY 



amazedly (v. 1. 187), with astonish- 
ment and wonder, as if out of 
one's wits. Cf. Midsummer Night's 
Dream, iv. 1. 150: " My lord, I 
shall reply amazedly, Half sleep, 
half waking." 

ancientry (iii. 3. 63), elders, old 
folks; the abstract noun from 
aficient, from Fr. anciefi, from Low 
Lat. antianum, ultimately from 
Lat. ante, before, -f suffix anus. 
Generally the word has the ab- 
stract sense " ancientness," but 
here it has the rare and obsolete 
collective sense. Cf. 1589, R. 
Harvey, Plaine Fere. ''By the 
Auncientry of the Parish." 

attach (v. 1. 182), arrest; fromO. Fr. 
atacher, cognate \\ath It. attacare, 
from a, to, + root found in de- 
tacher, and which is perhaps con- 
nected with Genevese tache, Sp. 
tacha, round-headed nail: at all 
events, the sense of fastening, 
nailing to, is contained in ''arrest." 
Cf. Comedy of Errors, iv. 1. 6: 
" Therefore make present satis- 
faction, Or I '11 attach you by this 
officer." 

bawcock (i. 2. 121), a colloquial or 
burlesque term of endearment, 
hne fellow; from Fr. heau coq. 

bide upon (i. 2. 242), dwell, insist 
upon; bide is from O. E. bldan, to 
wait, which meaning is preserved 
in abide: with "bide upon" cf. 
" bide by," to stand firm by, to 
adhere to. 

blench (i. 2. 333), turn aside, swerv^e; 
origin uncertain, but perhaps 
from O. E. bleuQan, to deceive, to 
cheat, which is perhaps connected 
with the root which has given us 
hlink. The meaning is clear 
enough. Cf. 1553 Bale, Gardiner's 
Obed. : " He obeyeth truly which 
. . . blenchet not out out of the 
Waye of Goddes commaunde- 
mentes," and also Measure for 
Measure, iv. 5. 5: "And hold you 
ever to our special drift, Though 



sometimes you do blench from 

this to that." 

boiled brains (iii. 3. 64), hot-headed 
young fellows: boiled was often 
used metaphorically in a con- 
temptuous sense; e. g. boiled stuff, 
a common EUzabethan phrase for 
a loose woman. 

bolted (iv. 4. 374), sifted; of course, 
figuratively in this instance; from 
O. Fr. bulter, which goes back to 
an earher btdeter, representing a 
form bureter, from It. burattare, 
from buratto, a meal-sieve. 

bourn (i. 2. 134), boundary; from Fr. 
borne, which is perhaps from O. Fr. 
bodne, bone, boune; if so, then 
bourn is closely related to bound, 
from 0. Fr. boune. The word oc- 
curs several times in early Eliza- 
bethan Hterature, then drops out 
of use, and its 18th century re- 
vival is attributed by Sir J. Mur- 
ray to the renewed interest in 
Shakespeare and the popularity 
of Hamlet's speech about the 
" undiscover'd country from 
whose bourn no traveller returns." 
Cf. Berners, Froissart: " All 
places lyenge betwene the boundes 
and bournes folowynge." 

budget (iv. 3. 20), pouch, bag, wal- 
let; from Fr. bougette, diminutive 
of bouge, a leather bag, Lat. 
bulga, a bag: perhaps ultimately 
of Gaulish origin. Cf. O. Irish 
bolg, a sack. 

bug (iii. 2. 93) bugbear, object of 
terror; M. E. bugge, perhaps from 
Welsh bu'g, ghost. The present 
sense dropped when the word 
came to be used for the name of 
an insect, surviving only in the 
compound bugbear. Cf. 3 Henry 
VI, V. 2. 2: " For Warwick was a 
bug that fear'd us all." 

caddisses (iv. 4. 208), short for 
caddis-ribbons, worsted tapes or 
bindings used for garters. Cf. 1580 
Lyly, Euphues: " The country 



GLOSSARY 



181 



dame girdeth herself as straight 
in the waste with a coarse caddes, 
as the Madame of the Court with 
a silke riband." Caddis includes 
the senses of two words which 
have been confused: (1) cadas, 
cadace, O. Fr. cadaz, cadas, in Cot- 
grave, cadarce " the tow or coars- 
est part of silke, whereof sleave 
is made," and (2) Fr. cadis, " une 
sorte de serge de laine, de bas 
pris." 

callat (ii. 3. 90), lewd woman, trull 
or perhaps only generally abusive, 
a scold. The word is obsolete ex- 
cept in dialects, and its form was 
usually callet, for which three 
alternative origins are suggested, 
(1) Fr. caillette, '' foole, ninnie, 
noddie," (Cotgrave), diminutive 
of caille, quail, which was esteemed 
a silly bird; (2) Fr. calotte, a kind of 
small bonnet for the top of the 
head; (3) Gaehc caille, girl. Cf. 
1600 Holland, Livy. " Any un- 
honest woman or wanton callot," 
where the cogent phrase trans- 
lates the Lat. impudica. 

caparison (iv. 3. 27), clothes, dress. 
The word seems to have signified 
generally " a saddle-cloth " or 
*' horse trappings," less com- 
monly " horse armour," and less 
commonly still, " dress " (of men 
or women): but if the suggested 
derivation is correct (O. Fr. capa- 
rasson, augmentative from me- 
diaeval Lat. caparo, a sort of cape 
worn by old women) perhaps the 
least common sense is the original 
one. 

childness (i. 2. 170), childishness. 
Murray marks this sense of the 
word as rare and gives only this 
instance. 

clap (i. 2. 104), seal (a bargain) by a 
hand-shake: the original sense is 
*' to make an explosive sound," 
whence the word was applied to 
actions incidentally accompanied 
by such noise, such as striking, 



hitting: so it was applied to the 
striking of hands in token of a 
bargain. Cf. //ewry F, v. 2. 133: 
" Give me your answer; i' faith, 
do: and so clap hands and a 
bargain." 

colour (iv. 4. 568), pretext, show of 
reason — a common sense of the 
word. Cf. 1494 Fabyan: '' With- 
out fraude, colour, or disceyte." 

commend (ii. 3. 182), commit, from 
Lat. commendare, to commit to 
anyone's charge, from con, in- 
tensive, + mandare, to commit 
into one's charge. 

commission (i. 2. 40), authoritative 
direction to act in a certain man- 
ner. Cf. Milton, Paradise Lost, 
vii. 118: " Such Commission from 
above I have received, to answer 
thy desire Of knowledge within 
bounds." 

condition (iv. 4. 738), nature, char- 
acter — an obsolete sense; M. E. 
condicion, O. Fr. coitdlcion, Lat. 
condicionem, a compact or stipu- 
lation, from con, together, -h 
dicere, to tell, declare. 

cordial (v. 3. 78), restorative, reviv- 
ing; from mediaeval Lat. cor- 
dialis, adjective from cor, cordis, 
heart. Cf. 1533 Elyot,^ Cast, 
Heltke: " Al thinges which be 
cordiall, that is to say, which do 
in any wise comfort the heart." 

dibble (iv. 4. 100), instrument for 
making holes in the ground for 
planting seeds, etc., a stout, 
pointed, cyhndrical stick; per- 
haps the word is an instrumental 
or diminutive from dib, which in 
its turn is a derived form from 
dab. Cf. 1573 Tusser, Ilusb.: 
" Through cunning with dibble, 
rake, mattock and spade, By Hne 
and by level, trim garden is 
made." 

disease (iv. 4. 047), undress. Cf. 
Tempest, v. 1. 85: '' Fetch me the 
hat and rapier in my cell: I will 



182 



GLOSSARY 



disease me, and myself present 
As I was sometime Milan." 

discovered (ii. 1. 50), divulged, re- 
vealed (an archaic sense). Cf. 
Much Ado, i. 2. 12. " The Prince 
discover'd to Claudio that he 
loved my niece, your daughter." 

discovery (i. 2. 441), see discover'd 
above: here the word seems to 
mean no more than disclosure or 
revelation of new circumstances. 

disliken (iv. 4. 665), disguise. Mur- 
ray marks the word as obsolete, 
giving only this instance of its 
use. 

dispute (iv. 4. 410), maintain, gov- 
ern, regulate: from O. Fr. desputer, 
Lat. disputare, to compute, esti- 
mate, from dis -\- putare, to com- 
pute, reckon. The derivation 
shows that the word did not origi- 
nally imply a formal argument in 
speech: in this text, there is no 
such impHcation. 

encounter (iii. 2. 50), behavior, 
style of address, manner of 
meeting; O. Fr. encontre, late 
Latin incontrare, to meet, come 
against. In this case the word 
has acquired a specialized mean- 
ing — not merely " meeting." 
Cf. Hamlet, v. 2. 189: " Thus has 
he . . . only got the tune of the 
time and outward habit of 
encounter." 

extempore (iv. 4. 691), a Latin 
phrase, ex tempore, *' out of the 
time," " on the inspiration of the 
moment:" here it has the gen- 
eral signification of " without 
forethought or cunning plan." 
Cf. the phrase *' to live extem- 
pore," in the sense of '* to live 
from hand to mouth." 

fardel (iv. 4. 727, 738), bundle, par- 
cel, (archaic) ; O. Fr. fardel, dimin- 
utive of Jarde, burden. 

featly (iv. 4. 176), with grace and 
agiUty — a very common word 
in Elizabethan literature. The 



obsolete adjective feat, fit, proper, 
neat, is from Fr. fait, Lat. f actus, 
past part, oi facer e, to make. 

federary (ii. 1. 90), accomplice. 
This is the sole instance of the 
occurrence of this word in this 
form, which is etymologically the 
correct derivative of Lat. foedus, 
covenant. The common form is 
fedary or fedarie, or foedarie, and 
the metre of this Hne in^ the 
Winter's Tale seems to indicate 
ihsit fedary was intended: perhaps 
federary is due to some scholar's 
correction of the original MS. 
Shakespeare's usual ioims fedary, 
foedarie, in the sense of confede- 
rate, accomplice, are erroneous: 
they are not the derivatives of 
foedus, but of the mediaeval 
Lat. feodum, and thus they are 
variants of feodary, feudary, 
feudal tenant. 

feeding (iv. 4. 169), lands, heritage, 
estate, in a general sense. Cf. 
Laws of Philip and Mary, 1554- 
1555: '' Lands or feedings, apt 
for milch kine." 

flaunts (iv. 4. 23), things used to 
make a show, showy dress, finery; 
origin uncertain. Cf. 1590 Smith, 
Wedding Garme^it : "So the wed- 
ding Garment shall seeme better 
than all the flants of vanity." 

flax-wench (i. 2. 277), female flax 
worker; perhaps in addition to 
the imphed social contempt in 
this word in its present context, 
there is also a moral contempt, 
but the Neiv Eng. Diet, gives no 
authority for such interpretation. 

gallimaufry (iv. 4. 335), confused 
jumble, ridiculous medley; also 
appHcd to a dish of hashed-up 
food: from Fr. galimafree. 

glib (ii. 1. 149), castrate, geld; ap- 
parently a corruption of lib, with 
the same meaning, and probably 
connected etymologically with the 
root in left. 



GLOSSARY 



183 



gust (i. 2. 219), taste, hence, figura- 
tively, experience, realize. Lat. 
gustare, from gustus, taste. 

handed (iv. 4. 358), dealt with, 
dabbled with. 

having (iv. 4. 739), property, wealth. 
Cf. 1652 Brome, Novella: " Looke 
to my house and havings; keep 
all safe." 

heat (i. 2. 96), (by an abruptly ex- 
pressed metaphor) rush over, 
dash across. 

hent (iv. 3. 132), grasp, lay hold of; 
O. E. hentan, to seize. Cf . Spenser, 
Shepherd's Col. Feb. : " His harme- 
fuU Hatchet he hent in hand." 

hovering (i. 2. 302), hesitating, 
wavering. 

hoxes (i. 2. 244), houghs, ham- 
strings. Cf. Wyclif's Bible, Josh. 
xi. 6: "Thou schalt hoxe the 
horsis of hem: " the word may 
be from hoxen, to hamstring; 
philologists compare Ger. hechs- 
nen, to hamstring, pointing out 
the dialect forms without the », 
hdchsen, hessen, hdsen. 

inkles (iv. 4. 208), varieties or pieces 
of linen tape; an inkle is a kind of 
linen tape, then the word came to 
mean a piece of such tape: so 
inkles, either pieces or varieties. 
The word is of uncertain origin; 
some suggest early Dutch enckel, 
inckel, single, which word might 
conceivably be applied to narrow 
or inferior tape — but there is no 
evidence of this. Cf. 1639 T. de 
Grey, Compl. Eorsem.: " With 
an incle or filliting bind the 
hough." 

intelligence (iv. 2. 42, 51), informa- 
tion, news — a sense not uncom- 
mon from early times and still in 
use: thus Murray gives an in- 
stance from the Coventry Mys- 
tery Plays, and another from 
McCarthy, History of Our Own 
Times: " The most accurate 



source of intelligence in all mat- 
ters of public interest." From Fr. 
intelligence, Lat. intelligentia, un- 
derstanding. 

intelligencing (ii. 3. 68), conveying 
information, acting as spy; ses 
above. 

knack (iv. 4.438), pi. knacks (iv.4. 
359), toy, trifle, trinket; may be 
same word as knack, a sharp, 
sounding blow; if so, then accord- 
ing to Murray, it is of echoic 
origin, and has analogues in 
Dutch, German, Norwegian, and 
even Gaelic. Cf. Taming of the 
Shrew, iv. 3. 67: "Why 'tis a 
cockle or a walnut-shell, A knacke, 
a toy, a tricke, a babie's cap." 

limber (i. 2. 47), pliant, easily bent, 
figuratively, easily refutable, or 
perhaps merely, limp, flaccid: 
usually spelled limmer, lymmer, 
synonymous with dialect word 
limmock; it may be a compound 
of limb, as leathwake is a com- 
pound of lith (limb). Cf. 1602 
Marston, Ant. and Mel.: " Con- 
fusion to these limber syco- 
phants! " 

loss (ii. 3. 192), perdition, ruin, de- 
struction; connected etymolog- 
ically with leese, lease, loose, lorn; 
there is an O. E. los, only found, 
however, in the phrase " to lose," 
meaning dissolution; loss is cer- 
tainly connected with this, though 
it is not directly a derivative. 
Cf. Caxton, Cato: " When they 
seken in the losse and the dethe 
of yonge chyldren," and Lear, iii. 
6. 102: "His life With thine, 
and all that offer to defend him. 
Stand in assured loss." 

lunes (ii. 2. 30), fits of frenzy and 
madness. Johnson writes to Mrs. 
Thrale, 1778: " My master is in 
his old luncs, and so am I." The 
word gives us an insight into the 
science of mediaeval medicine, 
which connected the moon with 



184 



GLOSSARY 



the prevalence of certain humours 
in body and mind: so lune from 
mediaeval Lat. luna, moon; of. 
also Ger. Laune, whim. 

marted (iv. 4. 362), trafficked in; the 
noun mart is probably from Dutch 
mart, now markt, and etymolog- 
ically connected with market, 
which is O. Fr. market, Sp. mer- 
cado, It. mercato, all of them going 
back to the Lat. mercatus, from 
mercari, to trade. 

material (i. 2. 216), of serious import. 
Cf. More, Dyaloge:^ " Sith this 
thing is much material, as where- 
upon many great thynges do de- 
pende," and Macbeth, iii. 1. 136: 
" Whose absence is no less mate- 
rial to me Than is his father's.'* 

measure (iv. 4. 756), grave, stately 
walk; generally used in reference 
to stately dancing, " to tread a 
measure.'* 

missingly (iv. 2. 35), with a sense of 
loss. Murray gives only this 
instance of the use of the word. 

overture (ii. 1. 172), literally, open- 
ing, hence, opening up or revela- 
tion of a matter, disclosure; from 
O. Fr. overture, an opening. Cf. 
1548 Hall, Chron.: "The kyng 
had knowledge of the chief 
Capitaynes of this tumulte by 
the overture of hys espyes." 

owe (iii. 2. 39), have, possess, own. 
Cf. Chaucer, Pard. Tale: "The 
goode man that the beestes 
oweth." This is the root meaning 
of the word, 0. E. dgan, pres. 
tense dh, past, dhte, which by 
regular philological law becomes 
modern English owe, owed, ought: 
in very early M. E., however, 
ought acquired its present indefi- 
nite sense; early, too, dgan, owe 
in the sense of the Lat. habere 
underwent changes, indicated by 
its use in the O. E. phrase dgan to 
geldanne, to have to pay, to the 
sense of the Lat. deberCf to have 



an obligation, to owe' in the mod- 
ern sense. The old sense, to have, 
to possess, is still not extinct in 
dialect. 

pantler (iv. 4. 56), originally, baker; 
in M. E. applied to the person 
who had charge of the bread, the 
pantry. Cf. 2 Henry IV, ii. 4. 258: 
•'He would have made a good 
pantler, he would have chipped 
bread well." Probably, the word 
is an altered form of panter by 
analogy with butler: panter is 
M. E. paneter, O. Fr. paneter, 
mediaeval Lat. panetarius, from 
Lat. panem, bread. 

perfect (iii. 3. 1), certain, assured (a 
rare and obsolete sense). Cf. 1568 
Grafton, Chron.: " He had per- 
fecte worde that the Duke of 
Clarance came forward towarde 
him with a great army," and 
Cymbeline, iii. 1. 73: "I am per- 
fect that the Pannonians . . . 
for their liberties are now in 
arms." 

ponderous (iv. 4. 534), literally, 
heavy, hence, of grave impor- 
tance. 

practice (iii. 2. 168), trickery, trea- 
son. This is the sense of the first 
known occurrence of the word in 
Enghsh, 1494, Fabyan, Chron.: 
" The towne of Seynt Denys . . . 
was goten by treason or prac- 
tyse," and this too is its common 
sense in Elizabethan literature. 
The form of the noun suffix -ice 
is due to analogy with, justice, etc., 
the earlier form being practyse^ 
-ize, which was apparently from 
the verb form practise, from O. Fr. 
practiser. 

prankM up (iv. 4. 10), gaily decked 
out, showily dressed: cognate 
with Dutch pronk, show, finery, 
Ger. Prunk, pomp. Cf. Lyly, 
Euphues: " As willing . . . as you 
are to prancke your selves in a 
lookinge Glasse." 



GLOSSARY 



185 



present (iii. 3. 4), immediate, instant, 
(an obsolete sense) : O. Fr. present, 
Lat. praesens, praesentem, pres- 
ent, immediate, really pres. part. 
of prae-esse, to be before, to be 
at hand. Cf. Bacon, Essay, Sacred 
Medit: " Peter stroke Ananias 
. . . with present death." 

prig (iv. 3. 108), a cant term for 
thief; of unknown origin. Cf. 
Fielding, Jon. Wild: " The same 
endowments have often com- 
posed the statesman and the prig; 
for so we call what the vulgar 
name a Thief." 

prognostication (iy. 4. 816), literally, 
prophecy, prediction, here in the 
appHed sense, an almanac giving 
an astrological forecast for the 
year. Cf. 1583 Stubbes, Anat. 
Abus.: " The makers of prog- 
nostications, or almanacs for the 
yeere." M. E., O. F. prdndstica- 
don, mediaeval Lat. prognostic 
care, from prognosticus, from Gr. 
irpoyvbiTUKos, foreknowing. 

purchase (iv. 4. 521), to obtain, get: 
the root sense is '* procure by 
elBfort, seek for; " M. E., A. Fr. 
purchaser = O. Fr. por-, pur- 
chacier, -chasser, to seek to obtain, 
Lat. pro + popular Lat. captiare, 
to catch. 

puts forth (i. 2. 254), (figuratively 
on analogy with the sprouting of 
plants) appears, shows itself. Cf. 
Venus and Adonis, 416: " Who 
plucks the bud before one leaf 
put forth." 

putter-on (ii. 1. 141), instigator, 
schemer, inciter. Cf. Henry 
VIII, i. 2. 24: '' My good lord 
Cardinal, they vent reproaches 
Most bitterly on you, as putter-on 
Of these exactions." 

quick (iv.4. 132), alive, living; O. E. 
civic. Cf. 1661, Fuller, Worthies: 
" Not the quick but dead worthies 
properly pertain to my pen." 



quoifs (iv. 4. ' 226), close-fitting 
hoods; generally spelled coif: Fr. 
coijfe. Low Lat. cofia, M. H. Ger. 
kupfe, 0. H. Ger. chuph, head. 

race (iv. 3. 50), root; O. Fr. rais, 
Lat. radicem, 

rehearse (v. 2. 67), tell, narrate (now 
a rare sense); O. Fr. rehercer, ap- 
parently from re + hercer, to har- 
row, from herse, harrow, Lat. 
hirpex, rake. Cf. 1483 Caxton, 
Gold. Leg.: " First we shal reherce 
here the birthe and begynnyng 
of Judas." 

remember (iii. 2. 231), remind 
(archaic). Cf. Chaucer Frank. 
Tale: " This was as thise bookes 
me remember. The cold frosty 
seson of Decembre." 

require (ii. 3. 190), call for (as retri- 
bution), demand; O. Fr. requer-, 
requier, Lat. requirere, from re -h 
quaerere, to seek, ask. 

rift (v. 1. 66), (probably) split, gape 
open; of Scandinavian origin; cf. 
O. Nor. ripta, to break (a bar- 
gain, etc.). Cf. Bacon. Sylva: 
" When ice is congealed in a cup, 
the ice will swell instead of con- 
tracting; and sometimes rift." 

sacred (i. 2. 76), the epithet of roy- 
alty, royal: it is really the past 
part, of an obsolete verb, sacre, 
to consecrate, Lat. sacrare, from 
sacer, sacred, but the participial 
sense is now lost. 

scour (ii. 1. 35), move rapidly, run; 
the word may be equivalent to 
the O. Nor. skur, storm (Eng. 
shower) and to the Nor. 
skura, to rush violently. Cf. 
Spenser, Faery-Queene, 1. ii. 20: 
" The lady . . . from him fled 
away with all her powre: who 
after her as hastily gan scowre." 

seeming (iv. 4. 75), form, appear- 
ance — probably incorporating 
the idea of " fitting," which we 



186 



GLOSSARY 



get in the verb beseem. The verb 
seem has this idea in its root: 
M. E. seme, O. Nor. s^ma, Icel. 
scBma, to honor, conform to; cf. 
O. Nor. s6ma, to beseem, befit. 

skill (ii. 1. 166), (apparently) craft, 
cunning; but Murray gives no 
instance of this sense; he gives 
one sense '' discrimination in re- 
lation to special circumstances." 
But just as both craft and cunning 
bear a deteriorated sense, it is 
possible that skill has such a 
sense here. 

sleeve-hand (iv. 4. 211), wristband 
or cuff of a sleeve. Cf . 1550 Leland 
Collect: " A surcoat of the same 
[crimson velvet] furred with 
mynever pure, the Coller, skirts, 
and Sleeve-hands garnished with 
ribbons of gold." 

slippery (i. 2. 273), unchaste, licen- 
tious: the adjective was originally 
slipper (O. E. slipor), but this is 
now obsolete; slippery is perhaps 
formed from it by analogy with 
the Low Ger. slipperig. 

sneaping^ (i. 2. 13), nipping, biting: 
sneap is probably an alternative 
form of the dialect verb snape, to 
rebuke, snub, O. Nor. sneypa, to 
outrage. Cf. Love's Labour's 
Lost, i. 1. 100: " Like an envious 
sneaping frost, That bites the 
first-born infants of the Spring." 

spices (iii. 2. 185), specimens; the 
original meaning is alhed to this, 
O. Fr. espice, Lat. species, kind, 
sort. 

square (iv. 4. 212), embroidered 
bosom or yoke of a garment 
(Onions): the adjective square is 
from O. Fr. esquarre, from Low 
Lat. past part, of exquadrare, to 
make square, from quadros, four- 
cornered, from the root of quat- 
tuor, four. 

squared (iii. 3. 41, v. 1. 52), regu- tremor cordis (i. 2. 110), Latin, 
lated, governed, ruled. trembling of the heart. 



squash (i. 2. 160), literally, an unripe 
pea-pod, used contemptuously 
of a young person; either an in- 
tensive of quash, O. Fr. quasser, 
modern Fr. casser, Lat. quassare, 
frequent, of quatere, to shake, or 
perhaps M. E. squachen, O. Fr. 
esquacher, from es-, ex- -|- Low 
Lat. coacticare, from coactus, 
past part, of cogere, to compel, 
literally, to drive together. 

squier (iv. 4. 348), measuring in- 
strument, foot-rule; this is a com- 
mon early and Ehzabethan form 
of square, 

stomacher (iv. 4. 226), article of 
dress, usually of fine material 
richly ornamented, for the breast 
or stomach, having a gown or 
doublet laced over it, worn by 
men and women in the 15th, 16th, 
and 17th centuries. 

strained (iii. 2. 51), exceeded bounds, 
forced beyond proper limits; O. Fr. 
streindre, Lat. stringo, to bind 
tight. Cf. Butler, Eudibras: 
" He that strains too far a vow. 
Will break it, like an o'erbent 
bow." 

surplus (v. 3. 7), overplus; Fr. sur- 
plus. Low Lat. superplus, Lat. 
super -f plus. 

tardied (iii. 2. 163), delayed, held 
back; an obsolete verb from the 
adj. tardy, Fr. tardif, popu- 
lar Lat. tardivus, Lat. tardus, 
slow. 

tell (iv. 4. 185), count, reckon; " to 
mention or name one by one, 
specifying them as one, two, 
three, etc., and hence to ascertain 
from the number of the last how 
many there are in the whole 
series " (Murray). Cf. the phrase 
"to tell one's beads," "to tell 
sheep; " O. E. tellan, cf. Ger. 
zdhlen. 



GLOSSARY 



187 



uncurrent (iii. 2. 60), figuratively, 
not allowable or passable, hence, 
objectionable or extraordinary 
(Onions). 

undergo (ii. 3. 164), take upon one- 
self, undertake to perform. 

utter (iv. 4. 330), put on the market, 
put forth. Cf. Romeo and Juliet, 
V. 1. 67: " Such mortal drugs I 
have; but Mantua's law Is death 
to any he that utters them." 
From M. E. uttren, from O. E. 
utterat compar. of «/, out. 

wanton (ii. 1. 18), frolic; M. E. 
wanioun, wantowen, from wan 
(prefix with sense of un- as in the 
obsolete wanhope, despair) -f- 
towen, O. E. togen, past part, of 
teon, to draw, educate. Cf . Byron, 
Childe Harold, 4. 148: "I 
wanton' d with thy breakers.'* 

warder (iv. 3. 48), kind of cooking 
pear; either from Wardon in 
Bedfordshire, or perhaps from the 
noun warden, guardian, because 



these pears can be kept a long 
time. 

warp (i. 2. 364), be distorted; also 
used transitively, to distort. Cf. 
All 's Well, V. 3. 49: '' His scorn- 
ful perspective . . . which warp'd 
the line of every other favour: '* 
partly from O. Nor. varpa, to 
throw: cognate Ger. werfen, to 
throw, partly from O. E. wearp, 
from wearpan, to throw. 

welkin (i. 2. 136),^ attributively, 
blue, sky-blue, or "perhaps, heav- 
enly; O. E. wolcnu, .pi. of woken, 
cloud. 

whoobub (iv. 4. 628), hubbub, tu- 
mult, confusion: some say from 
O. F. houper, whoop, from houp/ 
interjection used in calUng; others 
say of Irish origin, comparing 
Gaelic ubub, an interjection of 
contempt, and Irish abu, a war cry. 

yest (iii. 3. 94), figuratively, froth: 
O. E. gist, from the root in O. H. 
Ger. jesan, ferment, cognate Or, 
^€w, boj , ^ 



INDEX OF WORDS 



(The references are to the Notes ad loc. Other words will be 
found in the Glossary.) 



abide, iv. 3. 99. 
admiration, v. 2. 12. 
admiring, v. 3. 41. 
adventure, v. 1. 149. 
affront, v. 1. 75. 
altering, iv. 4. 409. 
alters, iv. 4. 585. 
angle, iv. 2. 52. 
apparent, i. 2. 177. 
approved, iv. 2. 31. 
attorney ed, i. 1. 30. 
aunts, iv. 3. 11. 
borne, iii. 3. 70. 
basilisk, i. 2. 334. 
becoming, iii. 3. 22. 
bench'd, i. 2. 314. 
blocks, i. 2. 225. 
blood, i. 2. 73. 
boot, iv. 4. 650, 689. 
bugle, iv. 4. 224. 
carbonadoed, iv. 4. 268. 
career, i. 2. 286. 
carriage, iii. 1. 17. 
case, iv. 4. 843. 
character, iii. 3. 47. 
clamour, iv. 4. 250. 
climate, v. 1. 170. 
clipping, V. 2. 59. 
clog, iv. 4. 694. 
collop, i. 2. 137. 
colouring, ii. 2. 20. 
comforting, ii. 3. 56. 
commodity, iii. 2. 94. 
copest with, iv. 4. 434. 
countenance, v. 2. 52. 
dead, iv. 4. 444. 
dildo, iv. 4. 195. 



discontenting, iv. 4. 542. 

doxy, iv. 3. 2. 

drab, iv. 3. 27. 

earnest, iv. 4. 658. 

excrement, iv. 4. 733. 

fact, iii. 2. 86. 

fading, iv. 4. 195. 

fail, (sb.) ii. 3. 170. 

fancy, iv. 4. 492. 

farre, iv. 4. 441. 

feeling, iv. 2. 8. 

fertile, i. 2. 113. 

fetch off, i. 2. 334. 

fixure, V. 3. 67. 

fools, ii. 1. 118. 

gest, i. 2. 41. 

gillyvors, iv. 4. 82. 

good now, V. 1. 19. 

gossips, ii. 3. 41. 

hammered of, ii. 2. 49. 

handfast, iv. 4. 794. 

hath = have, i. 2. 1. 

hefts, ii. 1. 45. 

home, i. 2. 214, 248. 

hot, iv. 4. 104. 

i' fecks, i. 2. 120. 

immodest, iii. 2. 103. 

jar, i. 2. 43. 

land-service, iii. 3. 96. 

let, i. 2. 40. 

loss, iii. 3. 51. 

lozel, ii. 3. 108. 

mankind, ii. 3. 67. 

means, iv. 3. 46. 
I medicine, iv. 4. 597. 

medler, iv. 4. 329. 

mess, iv. 4. 11. 
189 



190 



INDEX OF WORDS 



methoughts, i. 2. 154. 
moe, i. 2. 8. 
neat, i. 2. 123. 
neb, i. 2. 183. 
note, i. 1. 140, i. 2. 2. 
offices, V. 1. 149. 
paddling, i. 2. 115. 
pale, iv. 3. 4. 
pash, i. 2. 128. 
peer, iv. 3. 1. 
pettitoes, iv. 4. 618. 
piece (sb.), v. 2. 104. 
piece (vb.), v. 2. 117. 
pinched, iv. 4. 621. 
pinched, ii. 1. 51. 
placket, iv. 4. 228. 
points, iv. 4. 206. 
pomander, iv. 4. 608. 
presently, v. 3. 86. 
pretence, iii. 2. 18. 
proper, ii. 3. 139. 
raise, ii. 1. 198. 
recreation, iii. 2. 241. 
rheums, iv. 4. 409. 
rounding, i. 2. 217 
saltiers, iv. 4. 333. , 



self -born, iv. 1. 8. 
skill, iv. 4. 152. 
speed, iii. 2. 146. 
straited, iv. 4. 364. 
stufiP'd, ii. 1. 185. 
subject, i. 1. 43. 
table-book, iv. 4. 608. 
take, i. 2. 40, iv. 4. 119. 
tall, V. 2. 177. 
tempt, ii. 2. 50. 
toaze, iv. 4. 759. 
tods, iv. 3. 33. 
trick, ii. 3. 100. 
unbraided, iv. 4. 204. 
unrolled, iv. 3. 130. 
vast, i. 1. 33. 
vessel, iii. 3. 21. 
vice, i. 2. 416. 
virginalling, i. 2. 125. " 
vulgars, ii. 1. 94. 
ward, i. 2. 33. 
weather-bitten, v. 2. 60.' 
without-door, ii. 1. 69. 
woman- tired, ii. 3. 74- 
worth, v. 1. 214. 



GENERAL INDEX 



Abbott, i. 1. 26; i. 2. 1, 43, 151; 

ii. 1. 165; ii. 3. 178; iv. 4. 65, 

377, 465, 538, 635; v. 1. 140, 

170; V. 3. 100, 150, 
archery metaphors, ii. 3. 4-7; 

iii. 2. 82. 
ballads, iv. 4. 279. 
bear-baiting, iv. 3. 109. 
Blackstone (on date), i. 2. 358. 
"centre," ii. 1. 102. 
child = girl, iii. 3. 71. 
dame Partlet, ii. 3. 75. 
daughter (pronunciation of), iv. 

1.27. 
Delphos, ii. 1. 183; iii. 1. 2. 
double negative, iii. 2. 56, 57. 
dramatic irony, v. 1. 174. 
ellipsis, i. 2. 43; iv. 4. 416; v. 

1. 59. 
Euphuism, v. 2. 89. 
"flap-dragoned," iii. 3. 100. 
Florio, i. 2. 291; iii. 1. 14. 
Furness, i. 2. 24, 52, 196, 400, 

458; ii. 1. 31; ii. 3. 198; iii. 

2. 82, 110; iv. 1. 9; iv. 4. 104, 
134, 143, 195, 392, 430; v. 1. 19; 
V. 3. 135. 

"gentleman-born," v. 2. 138. 
grammatical irregularities, iv. 1. 

2; iv. 2. 27; iv. 4. 430, 635; 

v. 1. 109, 136; V. 3. 150. 
Greene, see Pandosto. 
hath = have, i. 2. 1. 
Herford, i. 2. 137; ii. 1, 133; 

ii. 2. 20; iv. 1. 6, 8; iv. 3. 54; 

iv. 4. 614, 811; v. 1. 170. 
it, its, it own, iii. 2. 101; i. 2. 151; 

ii. 3. 178. 



Julio Romano, v. 2. 106. 

Lady Margery, ii. 3. 160. 

"land-damn," ii. 1. 143. 

Moorman, i. 2. 40, 132, 217; 
iii. 2. 123; iii. 3. 22; iv. 1. 27; 
iv. 4. 409. 

"mort o' the deer," i. 2. 118. 

"motion," iv. 3. 92. 

Pandosto, ii. 1. 1, 180, 183; 
iii. l.init.; iii. 2. 29, 115, 120, 
136; iii. 3. 2, 124; iv. 1. init.; 
iv. 4. 702; v. 1. 127. 

"pay your fees," i. 2. 53. 

pin and web, i. 2. 288. 

poking-sticks, iv. 4. 228. 

Prodigal Son, iv. 3. 92. 

pronoim as noun, i. 2. 44, 412. "^ 

proverb, i. 2. 161, 163; ii. 3. 96. 

"pugging tooth," iv. 3. 7. 

Romance, ii. 2. 58; iii. 2. init.; 
iv. 4. init., 133, 180. 

"spider steep'd," ii. 1. 40. 

"taken with the manner," iv. 4. 
750. 

tawdry lace, iv. 4. 253. 

textual emendations, etc., i. 1. 9 
i. 2. 1, 43, 52, 70; ii. 1, 11 
193; ii. 3. 53; iii. 2. 10, 110, 
169; iii. 3, 22, 124; iv. 1. init. 
iv. 2. init.; iv. 3. init.; iv. 4, 
init., 13, 40, 148, 160, 269, 441 
444, 591, 654, 667, 730, 767 
V. 1. init., 59, 75, 84; v. 2 
init., 60; v. 3. init., 18; 62, 149 

"three-man-song-men," iv. 3. 44, 

"three-pile," iv. 3. 14. 

troU-my-dames, iv. 3. 92. 

Whatsun pastorals, iv. 4. 134. 



191 



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Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield. With introduction and notes by W. H. Hud- 
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living's Life of Goldsmith. Edited by H. E. Coblentz, South Division High 
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Hacaulay's Essay on Milton. Edited by Albert Perry Walker, Master in 
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Macaulay's Essay on Addison. Edited by Albert Perry Walker. Cloth. 
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Blacaulay's Life of Johnson. Edited by Albert Perry Walkbr. Qoth. laa 
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Milton's Paradise Lost. Books i and ii. Edited by Albert Perry Walkbr. 
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Milton's Minor Poems. Edited by Albert Perry Walker. Cloth. 190 
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Pope's Translation of the Iliad. Books i, vi, xxii, and xxiv. Edited by Paui, 
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Scott's Ivanhoe. Edited by Porter Lander MacClintock. Cloth. 556 pages. 
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Scott's Lady of the Lake. Edited by L. Dupont Sylb, Professor in the Uni- 
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Shakespeare. See the Arden Shakespeare. Per vol., 25 cents. 

Tennyson '8 Enoch Arden^ and the two Locksley Halls. Edited by Calvin S. 

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